So, I haven't been sleeping lately. That's nothing new. I don't know how many times I've opened a paragraph with those words.
I've been sleep walking, I think. I wake up sitting at the kitchen table. I wake up on the couch. I wake up on the floor. I find myself pacing around. It's killing me.
People say I'm stressed. I dunno. I don't feel any more stressed than I used to - except when I wonder why I can't sleep.
I've been trying to pinpoint this thing. I don't do drugs anymore. I don't get high anymore (you know what I mean). I've been drinking a lot less. These are good things, right?
Maybe that's got something to do with it. How do normal people get to sleep, anyway?
The whole thing is probably hereditary. My mother never sleeps. She doesn't sleep at night. She didn't anyway. She's older now, so now, she'll just be sitting on the couch and poof! The bulb burns out, right in the middle of her Law and Order rerun.
My Old Man is the same way. They go to bed for three hours then they're up. Miserable, until they crash out mid-afternoon in front of the television or somewhere.
I was talking to my Old Man. He just got back from the cardiologist. He's got an enlarged heart. The doc wants him to drop thirty pounds and what not. He's cutting out the beer. He's supposed to get lots of rest and stuff, too. I asked him how he's gonna do that, what with the sleep disorder and all.
"The doc told me to try taking a Benedryl." He told me.
My sister, the nurse, sent him a couple of bottles of red wine. She insists it's good for the heart. Everything I've read in the papers support that. So, now, he's gonna have a glass of red wine, take his Benedryl and go to sleep, every night.
Later on in life, the road to ruby red health leads you straight back to alcohol and pills. It's fucking crazy the way some things work out.
Last night, I knocked back 9 or 10 beers and a little Johnny Walker, then crashed out for six hours. I didn't sleep walk. I don't remember doing it, anyway.
That's all I have to say about that.