sleepless in qc

Yesterday, I couldn’t sleep despite the fact that I have been awake for almost 72 hours. It was already four in the afternoon when I finally tried to take a nap but of course it was simply impossible. Our room was filled with such magnificent sunshine that even if I shut my eyes with a pillow and a blanket it would still be like having a picnic in the beach at noon. The sun was every where and of course we don’t have curtains. Then the phone rang and what do you know there’s a problem. The office which I left three weeks ago finally calls me and tells me that something came up. After sending messages, trying to figure out a solution I knew that it was hopeless. The dogs down the street are barking endlessly. I could hear kids screaming, motors running. It was crazy. So I went out, lit a cigarette and tried to think of ways to knock me unconscious. Then I realized that what’s keeping me awake was stress so I tried to think of things to alleviate all the stress I was having. Then I realized that I only cope with stress in three ways and that is to eat, drink, and fuck. Boy, no wonder I used to be an overweight sex maniac with an intense love affair with San Mig Light. Of course now I’m an anorexic smoker in a monogamous relationship. I guess I have to thank that ugly bastard who caused me to go on a diet two years ago. Believe me meeting him made me realize that I have been dating a lot of sex maniacs in my life.

Anyway, since I obsessively watch what I eat and beers will only give me more love handles and the boyfriend has yet to arrive from work, I opted to walk in the mall instead. That’s what I do nowadays. I wake up, drink two cups of coffee, smoke four or five cigarettes, go out to check my e-mails, take a bath and go to the mall. The mall which I used to hate with passion has become my refuge. After almost 30 minutes of walking I went home, washed my face, stripped down to my boxers and went to bed. As soon as my head touched my pillow, my mind was immediately set off. It was alive as in the lighting bolt hit the antennae, crawled inside the cable and went straight to my head and threw my eyelids open. I was alive, like Frankenstein. I mean, my mind was incandescent and I could see clearly even in the darkness. It was like a sponge and it seem to absorb everything. I was writing fiction, doing reviews, making plans and thinking what the fuck is happening to me all in the same time. So again I went out, lit a cigarette and think of ways to finally shut me off. Back when I was still involved with a certain noontime show, I could go without any sleep for days. As in I would supervise editing for an entire night, go home at around five in the morning, write a few scripts then go out again for an entire day of stressful shoot and finally go back to the office and spend the next night editing two to three VTRs. Of course by that time you could tip my head and I would fall on the floor and die. This time, however, I seem to not get any sleep because I was doing absolutely nothing. It was as if my entire body was doing a Trillanes and was saying that unless I do something with my life it will stay conscious for the time being. Fortunately my boyfriend arrived at around midnight and convinced me to eat. It was my sanity over my vanity and I just have to give in. The boyfriend cooked brown rice, two omelets and a few hotdogs, all of which I wolfed down with much gusto. And for dessert, I finally took out that Snickers that I have been eyeing in the ref for days now. Ay, it was heavenly! I guess I just needed a few thousand calories because after the meal I promptly, without any fuss, without any resistance, without any trouble, fell into deep you-have-to-kick-my-head-to-wake me-up kind of sleep. And I snored so loud you would think Satan was being sodomized in hell. You don’t believe me? Just ask my ever so loving and understanding cute boyfriend. He has the eye bags to prove it.

P.S. For the record, I was not on speed. I gave that up decades ago.

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