I am at a conference, which means I am sleeping even worse than usual (side note: is me blogging constantly about my sleep problems more or less interesting than me blogging constantly about being Stressed Out At Work? I’m sorry but also F YOU, if you don’t like it you can go read some awesome blog about jumping a motorcycle onto a speeding bullet train IF YOU CAN FIND SUCH A THING ha ha ha ha you’re stuck with me) Anyway two nights ago I woke up at–wait for it–TWO A.M., a new low even for me, truly a time to “wake up” that has never been heard of before by modern science. My face felt like the outside of a scuffed leather suitcase from the 1960s that you see at Goodwill and consider buying because it’s kind of cool but then you open it up and it smells too bad and so you dump it back in the “Sale” bin where you found it. ANYWAY, so I got up and luckily in this truly bizarre hotel room where I’m staying (extremely bright purple digital clock embedded in bathroom mirror that you can’t turn off and that blinks on and off randomly right in your face all night, e.g.) there was a single chamomile tea bag so I made some tea and got back in bed and actually went through my conference notebook and read all the notes I have taken at conferences over the past several years. It’s very interesting. Some of the notes I can no longer remember what they are in reference to or even what conference I could possibly have been attending, like they spark absolutely ZERO recognition (“papal palace, Avignon. ‘listener is engaged in a logical activity’ (rather than a descriptive narrative)”). Some of the notes remind me of badass papers I have seen and enjoyed. And of course there are notes commenting on funny things that have happened while attending these conferences, my favorite one being: “E on his phone during performance. I look over and he’s looking at a Buzzfeed article: ‘Twelve Tragically Awkward Wedding Photos.'” This makes me laugh so much but I no longer remember what conference this was, OR EVEN WHO ‘E’ WAS???? I’m racking my brains trying to think of an ‘E’ named man with whom I would have been hanging out at a conference at which there was also a performance I would actually have attended. If it was you please email me
Last night I got a solid 5 hours of sleep and woke up at 6:00 am, a wonderful late hour to sleep in until (joke). Currently chilling some tea bags to try to attend to my horrible haggard face. I look like Rochester’s poor haunted wife up in the attic, a specter whose presence makes the wedding guests scream and hide their eyes. The informational booklet in my hotel room has nothing but incorrect information, like it has this full room service menu but when I called they said they only had scrambled eggs and it would take an hour. The booklet says the Starbucks in the lobby opens at 6:30 but when I straggled down there desperate for some toxically strong Starbucks coffee it turned out they don’t open until 7:00 so I had to drag-ass back upstairs. I am not complaining at all; I don’t give a shit about any of this, I just think it’s funny. “Actually we only have scrambled eggs” is so funny. Just a hot plate of plain scrambled eggs delivered to your door.
I am so tired. What should I do? Somebody said I need to go to a sleep apnea clinic but I think it’s just perimenopause. I want a t-shirt that says “IT’S JUST PERIMENOPAUSE”
Shit I’m late for a thing I have to go to