Last night I slept like a baby for 6.5 blissful, uninterrupted hours.
Darn.
After my near-sleepless but productive Sunday night, I had looked forward to continuing my writing streak. The marketing plan for a non-fiction book. A scene from my much-talked-about (by me) one-woman show. The grocery list. (Hey, with the way I have to eat these days, that's like writing a novella.)
It's probably just as well that I slept through the night. Trish had cautioned me about the possible perils of writing while on a jittery, steroid-induced high. Who knows what edgy, raw drivel I was churning out. But then the jerky wheels began to turn and I thought, "What if I create a flash fiction anthology blog for 'roid writers?"
I'd get submissions from eosinophil sufferers, asthmatics and arthritics, not to mention post-transplant patients. (No ball players; that's a different kind of steroid.) Was I on to something?
No, that just seemed a little too narrow. What if I opened up submissions to all insomniacs? I could call the blog the Night Writers instead of the 'Roid Writers.
Who isn't sleeping these days? The grieving. The lonely hearts. Parents of infants. Parents of teens. Any woman over 50.
And, of course, the crummy economy has been responsible for keeping countless eyes wide open in the middle of the night. A recent story in the LA Times about the growing use of sleeping pills ended with this line from a sleepless college student, "I'm stressed out about the rest of my life."
So, I guess the better question would be, "Who IS sleeping these days?"
Um, that would be me. Even with the 'roids.
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