Monday, September 24, 2007

insomnia overkill

Last night was the worst insomnia I've had in months. I was still awake at 6 a.m. when my neighbor's boyfriend left her place. It was a good thing my first class was at 11 instead of 9, because I was able to get in about 2 hours of patchy sleep before getting to campus.

I had to show my ID at the campus gates because the President of Iran was speaking there today. We could hear the uproar from our classroom; all the windows were open in honor of the beautiful weather, and it made me pissy at the school that we were sitting in the classroom talking about pretty straightforward process outlines of urban planning instead of what was going on outside, with its contentious nature and high relevance to life.

I decided that if I took a nap, I would probably fuck up my sleep clock for the rest of my life, and am desperately trying to stay awake until 11 p.m. But I also can't afford to not sleep for two nights in a row, so I made myself a revised insomnia dinner, consisting of two baked turkey wings (fat/bone:meat ratio 9:1), a salad with tomatoes and feta (instead of the recommended baked potato with a shit ton of cheese), and a giant chunk of cheap, yellow gouda. Then I drank a bunch of red wine and smoked while looking for a good dive bar at which to meet Boy this Wednesday (tee hee!). Since we pretty much live in different states--he's on the Lower East Side and I'm in Washington Heights--the middle ground is the greater part of Manhattan.

Tonight Neighbor's boyfriend knocked on the door and, thinking it was Neighbor, I hollered at her to come in and instead I had a semi-awkward conversation with her boyfriend while sitting in front of my laptop, smoking in my underwear. Yes, I would rather pretend that it's normal to conversate in my skivvies than to leap up at the sight of him to scramble for a cover-up. I'm still on the fence as to how I feel about this guy, and I don't want to give him the satisfaction of embarrassing me, so I just chose not to be embarrassed.

Of course, something similar happened last year when I was just visiting and staying with them on the futon. Instead of hobbling into the bathroom (I was on crutches) to change into my pajamas, I just fumbled around on the futon, and of course he emerged from the bedroom at that moment to say goodnight. I think that moment might have had something to do with why he popped the threesome idea on her later, so I hope the same thing doesn't transpire tonight. I've already said no to one guy this week, and I don't like doling it out any more than I like receiving it.

Maybe I should start wearing more clothing at home. But...ugggh....that's one of THREE perks of living alone, the other two being that I can smoke indoors and that toilet paper seems to last forever.

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