Last night I was struck by insomnia. It was the terrible, nagging insomnia that is relentless, even long after you've turned off the lights. It was the type of insomnia which reminds you that, no matter what you have done thus far, it is not good enough, and that you are now too old to really do the kinds of things you need to do to get what you want. I tossed and turned and tried to ignore it for about 45 minutes, and then sat up again in bed, turned on the light, and proceeded to make a list of the things I want and the things that I can do in order to put things in motion. It actually looks MUCH less intimidating once it is broken down like that. Suddenly the overwhelming things start looking like baby steps that build up over time so that I can make mammoth strides. I think I can live with that. And Molly suggested a book to avoid future sleepless nights, which Tom bought for me as an early birthday present- definitely something to look forward to. I spent a little while longer youtubing everything under the sun and googling tips for writing fiction (my favorite site was this one.), and then finally got to sleep around 3. And now it's Monday, and the birds are signing outside my window and I think that what remains of today will be good. I have a massive list to tackle, and I find that there are few things that I enjoy more in life than crossing things of lists.
More later.
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