To sleep, perchance to blog
Well, dammit.
It's 4am and I am up.
I have many friends who sleep blissfully and they all look at me--and have looked at me, those of you who've been saddled with my friendship for too damn long...you know who you are--as if insomnia is to be pitied or censured.
The real problem with sleeping so little is the boredom. I can't play anything on the home theatre setup, I can't talk to anyone (at least not anyone worth talking to) and I can't flick on a light and read. So I am here, blogging away something I will almost certainly regret and/or puzzle over.
It is interesting to note that almost all of the things which have landed me axle-deep in trouble have been borne of boredom. In fact, I once entagled myself in the worst girlfriend-ish situation because she called one night and caught me in a vulnerable moment: I was bored. It took me seven months of wriggling to extricate myself from that train wreck. Hint: The situations spawned by the phrase "Sure! Why not?" are likely to come back to haunt you. Hint #2: Dating a girl whose BEST FRIENDS call her "PsychoBitch" is probably unwise.
AMHIK.
One of the more-or-less harmless ways to kill time when you're awake but nobody else is awake is to go blog hopping. You read your pals' blogs (I PROMISE to update my links...sorry) and then read THEIR pals' (or, at least I assume they are my pals' pals) blogs, and next thing you know, the feeling--much like the feeling you get as you make out the wreckage of a singularly impressive car crash--of being drawn into a vortex of puzzlement/horror overcomes you.
Frankly, the semi-voyeuristic thrill (Is this woman ACTUALLY proclaiming her ::cough, cough:: availability? Why did this guy name all his bow ties? Is all this obsession with nasal secretions healthy? Are all those nasal secretions healthy?) leaves you empty after a while, like a mild hangover. Particularly dangerous are blogs by people who have Seriously Bad Things going on in their life and/or some sort of bipolar/depression thing going on. I am am horrified, but I can't look away, at least not at 4am. But it's all I have at this ungodly hour.
To be perfectly honest, one of my very favorite things to do while on a blogcrawl is count how many people would seemingly be driven insane by me IRL. It's fun to annoy these people, even if just conceptually. ("Hey, that libertarian idiot is rambling about his Italian car. AGAIN.)
That's the fuel that powers the engine of the manly bounty that is me, and it makes me like my pals even more.
It's 4am and I am up.
I have many friends who sleep blissfully and they all look at me--and have looked at me, those of you who've been saddled with my friendship for too damn long...you know who you are--as if insomnia is to be pitied or censured.
The real problem with sleeping so little is the boredom. I can't play anything on the home theatre setup, I can't talk to anyone (at least not anyone worth talking to) and I can't flick on a light and read. So I am here, blogging away something I will almost certainly regret and/or puzzle over.
It is interesting to note that almost all of the things which have landed me axle-deep in trouble have been borne of boredom. In fact, I once entagled myself in the worst girlfriend-ish situation because she called one night and caught me in a vulnerable moment: I was bored. It took me seven months of wriggling to extricate myself from that train wreck. Hint: The situations spawned by the phrase "Sure! Why not?" are likely to come back to haunt you. Hint #2: Dating a girl whose BEST FRIENDS call her "PsychoBitch" is probably unwise.
AMHIK.
One of the more-or-less harmless ways to kill time when you're awake but nobody else is awake is to go blog hopping. You read your pals' blogs (I PROMISE to update my links...sorry) and then read THEIR pals' (or, at least I assume they are my pals' pals) blogs, and next thing you know, the feeling--much like the feeling you get as you make out the wreckage of a singularly impressive car crash--of being drawn into a vortex of puzzlement/horror overcomes you.
Frankly, the semi-voyeuristic thrill (Is this woman ACTUALLY proclaiming her ::cough, cough:: availability? Why did this guy name all his bow ties? Is all this obsession with nasal secretions healthy? Are all those nasal secretions healthy?) leaves you empty after a while, like a mild hangover. Particularly dangerous are blogs by people who have Seriously Bad Things going on in their life and/or some sort of bipolar/depression thing going on. I am am horrified, but I can't look away, at least not at 4am. But it's all I have at this ungodly hour.
To be perfectly honest, one of my very favorite things to do while on a blogcrawl is count how many people would seemingly be driven insane by me IRL. It's fun to annoy these people, even if just conceptually. ("Hey, that libertarian idiot is rambling about his Italian car. AGAIN.)
That's the fuel that powers the engine of the manly bounty that is me, and it makes me like my pals even more.
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