That damn Moby Dick and his White Privilege

I would bang my head on the wall and utter "stupid, stupid, stupid" in a crazed mantra, but I am afraid I would fall asleep. After waking up so early yesterday, I sleepwalked through the afternoon, staring at the same numbers on he same spreadsheet for an inordinate amount of time. After supper I cleaned up the mess and flopped on the couch to relax with a little baseball. I was still there five hours later as the game rolled right on into Tuesday. I didn't need to watch all thirteen innings. I could have read what happened this morning. Instead, I stayed up for twenty hours to watch a sporting event that had virtually no consequences for the Cubs, win or lose. Now here I am trying to peck out a coherent paragraph with less than six hours of sleep. "Stupid, stupid, stupid" is indeed an accurate description for my follies.

In new liberal fashion I will argue that my tiredness is not entirely my fault. I am still restricted to sleeping only on my back. My accustomed stomach position is out of the question says the surgeon. Even the fetal position is banned. More than fifty years of sleep habit is hard to chang in a couple of months. Five or six hours is really all I can stand before the need to turn over becomes unbearable.

My body says I can go back to sleep, but just not lying on my back. The brain says I have to be on my back. The body says it sucks to be me. I lie there until I just get up. One more week and I can start to sleep on my left side. Until then I'm just gonna have to suck it up, buttercup.

This post is a rambling wreck. I did not go to Georgia Tech, but you get the drift. I can tell you are getting that glazed over look my wife gets about a dozen times a day. That one that cries " pretend you are paying attention, but I just don't care Joe" every time I share a fact, anecdote, or trivia with her. That polite non-attention is my cue to stop.