Insomniac ramblings

Tonight I seem to be dining at the insomnia table. It's a full selection on offer; the eyes are heavy but the merest hint of movement snaps them back open again. The mind won't stop ticking over absolutely useless facts that are of no conceivable interest to anyone - including me, as it happens.

So here I am, stranded far from the land of nod and without any visible sign of transportation to take me there. What else is there for me to do but blog?

I'm sure my sleep exile is self inflicted. The worst insomnia usually is. Stress? Yeah, I've had it. Not this time though. This time, the self-inflicted bout of sleeplessness is caused by an overabundance of the stuff earlier today. I've been off work with a cold, nothing too serious admittedly, but enough that I slept until an unreasonable hour this morning. Slept so deeply that I was already hours late for work when I actually became conscious enough to let them know I wouldn't be in - and that in spite of setting my alarm to wake me around the time the phones start being answered by real people instead of machines.

And now, probably around twelve hours after I first woke up properly today, I'm perched here, desperately wanting to go to sleep, even yawning every so often, but unable to banish my brain from alertness. And as I'm mired here, I can't even retreat to my usual habits. I'm on L's laptop, my own being out of commission for the time being thanks to some incomprehensible technical glitch. Much like the one that won't let me sleep, it won't let any power reach the necessary elements of the computer. So I can't even use the time constructively. And here I am, running circles in the blogosphere, hoping to exhaust myself. Perhaps if I'm boring enough I'll put myself to sleep. I think I've had a fairly good shot at it here. Hoping I haven't cured insomnia in anyone other than myself.