Maybe it's the new moon or the weird weather or the unnatural sunrise time or the fact that I really miss the tree outside my window that would graciously provide shade and early morning glare repellent. And I lost my train of thought. Which I cannot stand.

Sleep has always been something of a mystery. When I was young, it was easy. Now, falling is a pain in the butt, asleep, that is. Do I read too much? Think too much? I guess picking up a book on mediation would be slightly ironic, if not helpful.

So I'm at a client and I'm checking mail and some feeds. A normal afternoon other than the location. Hours pass. Then, as I'm doing something completely unrelated that moment replays in my mind. And I was struck by how that stream of consciousness reminded me of something else, which has not yet happened. More how my description of checking mail and feeds and what I was reading at the time which is/was/will be a part of the something else which has not yet happened. Can a memory of a memory be a precursor of a memory of something which has not happened yet? Strange? Now if sleep would come, that would really tease my brain...

It's no secret that me and sleep are not a winning combination. What's more when we do intermingle the resulting dreams are usually quite memorable and well, odd... no, different... no, how 'bout oddifferent... Hmm... Lately, it's Shakespeare. Non-stop. Or more precisely, Bard mashups. Mostly the comedies. And what really spooks me is that my favorite of all time, "The Tempest" has not made an appearance yet. Should I be worried? Or should I wait some heavier stuff to show up first?

That's it. I'm switching back to black teas. I cannot stand the malaise. I know pain, it's a friend of mine. So, inspired by the person who uttered the title line I will take my chances — no I will beg fate to bring me the stone and the pain. At least I'm familiar with it, and that seems to be my problem, familiarity, in general, and in particular. Lucky, for you, fair reader(s) there are but one or two of you who may know what I am writing about. And that's good. Art should not be interesting or popular until after its creator has gone.

Many years ago I was struck with an idea. And when I began to walk down the path that the idea had put before my feet, all I could hear was the word disengage repeating over and over in my head. Of course I made a choice and continued down the path and with that I chose to disregard the word that repeatedly popped into my subconscious. And, of course, I have been living with the results of that choice for a very long time. Elaborate defenses of metaphor have been constructed, for better or worse... To quote: "So here is us, on the raggedy edge." Back again is the idea. Different to be sure, but the essence is the same. And I do not have the slightest idea which way to point this time. The circumstances seem a bit more complicated this time, although they may not, in reality be complicated in the slightest. My read on the subject is not as clear as it could be. And while the word seems to be echoing from the past, it is the uncertainty that seems to have my attention this time. And I think I like it that way. End of line. For the time being.

And I thought that "Red Spots" were reserved for the likes of gas giants. Of course, it's close to the middle of the night, so walking isn't an issue. Awesome!

...or summer flu. I've been living with this sore throat and early morning stuffiness since July. I cannot wait for October to come and kill off what October usually kills off...

I finally crashed around 5.30p and it's about midnight now. I've been checking up on my news (read Bloglines...) for about 15 mins. need. more. sleep.

Finally got Wordpress to play nice with my G5... Being awake for 30+ hours had nothing to do with it. I'm afraid that after all of last night's / this morning's traveling I'll nod off and wake up 3 hours later like I always do. So, here's to exhaustion...