September 17th, 2007


To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Lately I've been going through a really productive time, writing-wise. Lots of ideas, lots of getting it down on paper, lots of revisiting and revisioning and revisiting and revisioning. This, as you might imagine, feels good. 

So, what's the rub? That when I go through these crazy muse-driven stages, I don't sleep. I don't know if my synapses get lodged in the on position or what, but I lie in bed, night after night, wide awake. 


Sometimes I get up and read. Sometimes I write. Sometimes I cry. One time recently I got all confused and got dressed for my morning run before realizing it was 4 a.m. Which, in my opinion, is not necessarily when you want to clock a few miles.

Before this little phase (let's not use the word episode since that sounds diagnosable), I rode the vivid dream express for about six weeks. I slept, but boy-oh-man were those dreams something. I mean, I lived with them for hours after waking. Whether I wanted to or not. Frankly, it was a little distracting.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I'd trade all this for writer's block, but I am curious about how the rest of you wild minds strike a balance. I mean, can you schedule this stuff? And what about, y'know, the rest of life? Like putting gas in the car or making breakfast or occasionally sweeping the floor. I'm not talking about perfect here, folks, I'm just talking about avoiding the authorities and keeping the family free of any dirt-borne diseases. Sigh.

OK, I'm signing off now. I think I'll go to bed early. 
'Cause you never know. Tonight might be the night...