The Night Hours

I never have difficulty falling asleep when I'm healthy and fine, mostly b/c I'm tuckered out, so within minutes of putting out the bedside lamp, I'm dead to the world. But when I'm sick, it's a different story. Mostly, it's the temperature keeping me up. I'm either too hot or too cold. I stick one toe, a full foot, two feet, an arm, both arms out from under the covers, and then suddenly, I'm way too cold. I cover myself again and suddenly I'm smothering in the heat that is emanating from my own body.

I'm usually too uncomfortable. Normally, I can sleep in pretty much any horizontal position. But, for example, last night -- first, I cradled my spare pillow, yes, pathetic) (but, to my defense, I have come a long way baby! I used to cradle my faithful bedside companion, my laptop. Not a smart idea.); second, I turn to the other side. Now I wonder if the pain I'm feeling in my side is a ruptured spleen, a herniated disc, a kidney about to fail, etc. I lie on my stomach. Bad idea. My neck is too stiff to lie on my stomach and tilt to one side. So I lie on my back. Now I wonder whether the lumps I feel are in my back or in the mattress? So I gingerly feel my back. No lumps, just that old enemy back fat, always present, ready to bring me down. I toss I turn, I toss I turn.

I'm usually too thirsty or I've drunk too much water I have to urinate. Luckily, my bathroom is a hop and step away from the bedroom. Does not matter. Still inconvenient. You see, when you're sick, you have to make sure you're well hydrated. So I drink cranberry juice, orange juice, pomegranate juice and coconut water, all matched with a glass of water. Which is great except I have to make trips to the bathroom umpteen times. I no longer worry about turning on the light. Let the cookie crumble how it may. (Oops, wrong metaphor, you're thinking about the other bodily function now, no, no, I'm talking about sprinkling holy water during mass). With all this urinating, and my burning body using up all my liquids, I find myself having to wake up over and over again for another glass of water. And the ever-present question each time. To fill from the faucet in the bathroom, ever so close, but oh so lukewarm. Or to go to the kitchen, where I can add ice, and have chilled water! Which cools me down. But the kitchen is so far away. Dilemmas.

I'm not a hypochondriac on a day-to-day basis. Meaning, I don't think I'm catching ailments most of the time. But when I'm sick, my mind goes places it shouldn't. For example, fever + headache + stiff neck (likely from the awkward sleeping poses) = BACTERIAL MENINGITIS OH MY I'M GOING TO DIE. (Incidentally, such thoughts do not facilitate sleeping, either).

Which brings me to the heading of this blog post. While I'm doing the afore-mentioned, the hours tick tock away. At first I see lights in the building across from me still on, and I reassure myself, thinking, well, it's OK if I'm having trouble falling asleep, it's still early.

Slowly those lights go off one by one.
Until there's just one. A night owl. That means it's 4am.

Then the morning rays start to filter through my light curtains (for normally I like the light coming into my relatively dark bedroom). This means it's dawn.

I finally fall asleep only to have some concerned friend/ relative call at a normal hour, say, 10am, to find out how I am doing, which is perfectly reasonable, but for the fact that I didn't actually fall asleep properly until 8 or so . . .

Interesting couple of days

I've been very under the weather recently, turns out to be some bad sea food that introduced some bacteria into my system. They are being repelled by antibiotics now! (Oh, immune system, but why couldn't you do it on your own? Were the scallops so powerful?!).

I become a crazy person when I am ill. I like to always be busy (which includes watching TV, of course, because I actively get into the lives of my TV characters, so I'm listening to what they're saying, sometimes I respond to them and wonder whether they can hear me). But when I'm sick that means I have to stop, rest, shut down for a while, drink a lot of liquids and moan and groan to myself.

I'm not that interesting to be around. I can only take so much of myself at any given point in time.

Mostly, I felt betrayed by my subconscious mind. You see, I've had fever-induced dreams for the last two nights. You know, the kind of dreams where everything is absolutely crazy, and it's only because your body is on fire so to speak that your mind is racing about furiously and frantically? Well, apparently I dream about sending out a bill to a client (which, incidentally, does not have to go out for about another 10 days), and I dream about a motion that I am drafting. Really? This is what I could come up with while in my fever-induced state? I dream about this stuff all the time. I was so disappointed in myself.

I also start going through the motions of thinking that I must save! save! save! so that when I am old and alone, I will be able to afford a nice assisted living facility, where people take care of you, and check on you regularly, so you don't have to start camping out in emergency rooms. And obviously by "you" I mean "me" or "I" as appropriate.

I watched a lot of TV over the last couple of days. I remembered why I loved How I Met Your Mother so much when I used to watch it in Sierra Leone with the gang. That might also because I watched at least five episodes of it this weekend (perhaps while delirious).

Is it just me or do the cashiers at Duane Reade recoil when you check out with items such as Airborne, Nyquil, Dayquil, etc.? All I wanted was a little bit of compassion and sympathy.

I'm much, much better. Although I'm still disappointed in my sorry mind. From now on, when the time calls for it, I want feverish dreams of the right kind.

I am a nutcase

And so I should go to sleep, the night being old, and the long stories being medium maximum, instead of short.

But with cake in my mouth, and coconut water by my side, all I can think of is . . .

Times goes by.

That boring theme, that boring refrain.

So I'll switch instead. To say that I am a big sap. I went to a fundraiser tonight and heard Indra Nooyi speak. She was good but not great but I appreciated her a lot for her goodness. And then Cory Booker spoke and he was great and great.

And I realized that I care oh yes I care.

Further thoughts

Quixotic scolds for not making clear the multitude/ India/ narrative point in my earlier post. Which was just that Rushdie's novels, such as Midnight's Children, are about India, and they are dense and full of competing, different stories (all strung together in a madcap way), and it was great to see his theory of fiction, which is that narratives about India should be crowded and squeezed together, in a second class train compartment.

Clear now?

I'm listening to sleepy music. The purpose of which is to put me to sleep. But it's making me contemplative. Which is bad. I'm over contemplation. Which is why I want to work out like a fiend so that I sleep sleep sleep as soon as I settle down into my bed.

Yes, I'm shallow like that.

Which reminds me of the lyrics, "You were always crazy like that" from Foolish Games by Jewel. Which I don't listen to very often, actually, but which is a song that plagues Antoine's mind from time to time. This makes for interesting chat conversations.

Ant: You stood in the rain . . . etc.
Me: [Insert mad cap story.]
Ant: You were always crazy like that.

The usual update

Far be it from me to let an entire month go by without blogging. Thus this late-night-Sunday entry when I'm already taking stock of my life, the week past, the week ahead, now translated onto blog format for your viewing and reading pleasure.

What has happened since October 20, the date of the last post? So much and so little. In many ways, I have a rhythm to my life, a routine and a regularity of things that I do. Which makes life simple, really. Days fly by.

But also so much. I went to South Africa! Yes, that was unusual, a break from the routine. Although everything is a repetition in some variation of things that have passed. Like not having electricity in the Pretoria guest house when trying to prepare for my presentation -- just like living in Sierra Leone all over again!

I don't feel like recapping the goings on. I always feel that I do them injustice. I'm too half-hearted, too hasty. Trying to capture factual details in a hurried way, not delving into them and exploring their nuances. So, instead, thoughts, highlights:

(a) I love visiting friends. Old friends were in town this past weekend, and we did the usual, epic things we do when we get together, like karaoke, eat dinners out, drink beers, sit in front of the TV, lounge, lounge, lounge and talk, talk, talk.

(b) I love traveling but traveling alone can be tedious. I enjoyed South Africa, particularly, walking along the beachfront in Durban. But then every now and then a twinge reminds you that it would be nice to share the experience with family and friends. For which I think technology. Photographs can be shared instantly by blackberry, and text messaging keeps one in touch when afar. Wow, sentimental.

(c) India is full of multitudes. I say this not from recent personal observation although I agree with the observation. Rather, I was reading an interview with Salman Rushdie regarding his upcoming novel, and he said that he wanted to convey a myriad stories in his previous novels, such that the main narrative had to push and force its way through on to the page. I thought that was a great description of a narrative technique.

(d) Cooking is important. The more I cook, the more I like doing it. I want to be the kind of person who can put tasty nourishment on the table at any time. This is important to me. Today, I had a couple of friends over for brunch. The majority left but two guests lingered while I cleaned up. They sat on the couch, drinking coffee, and exchanged news important to the other. I put all the dishes in the dishwasher, I wiped down the table, I put the leftover food in the fridge, I sorted my mail, I stripped the sheets from my bed and the guest bed for washing . . . all the while knowing that two friends were relaxing in my living room, catching up, and that made me happy. I want to provide an environment where people can be comfortable.

(e) I love music. I have heard some recent new music. Again, I'm captivated by certain songs to the typical point (typical for me) of endless repetition. Like this is the only song I can listen to on repeat over and over and over again as I go to the grocery store, as I ride up in my elevator, as I walk to work. I wonder sometimes if this kind of "obsessive" behavior is bad, and whether I should change these habits. But I never will. I don't think.

(f) I hope Christina Yang rejoins the residency program on Grey's Anatomy. Yes, I know it's not to admit that I still watch this show, but I don't care. And I identify most with Christina (even though our lives are completely different, not to mention she's a fictional TV character). And I feel sad that she won't go on to become a famous, successful heart surgeon. As I feel sad (in an abstract way, not entirely meaningful, yet not meaningless) that I won't be a surgeon.

(g) Walking the streets of Paris is wonderful. Yes, I did that, too, on my way back from South Africa to New York. I forget how beautiful Paris is. And how much I love windows. Of apartments into which I can look. It's not glimpses of private lives, really. I don't actually need to see people in the apartments. Rather, I want to see the lights. The bookshelves. The high ceilings.

(h) Point (g) meandered. From Paris and walking to glimpses into apartments. I guess that these are not self-contained points, but rather meandering, rambling points. Which is fine. I hope you agree with me.

(i)I love working out. I take that back. I don't like lifting weights. But I love physical activity and exercise. I dream about an ideal life. Which I should "actualize." It involves being in a tennis league where I am a ferocious player. And a racquetball league. It involves swimming in a clean pool (far from my present New York public pool). It involves running half-marathons (for which I registered recently; let's see if my lottery application gets accepted; the NYC triathlon was full, and my lottery application didn't succeed). I'm not sure why. I certainly wasn't a jock in high school or college. But I just love the idea and feeling of falling asleep exhausted on my bed.

(j) Enough.