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I wonder if it counts as insomnia if I don’t even try to go to sleep in the first place. A week without school or any other commitments earlier than 14:00 have given me a feeling of being suspended in limbo. There is no sense of time anymore. Not even the sun can guide me through the day, blocked out of my apartment for the few hours it shines by thick blinds.

Each night there’s a point where I know logically I should go to sleep. Instead I stand in my middle of the room and wonder what I can do. Make a snack, perhaps, or watch a movie? I have a book to read but that is far to serene for my otherwise wired self.

Last night at 3:00 I found myself on my couch wrapped in blankets, watching an old movie I’ve seen half a dozen times before. I was tired, but still didn’t feel like sleeping. After some time I was lying down, eyes closed, back to the screen, just listening to the dialogue. Not an unusual place to find me, I must admit. Somehow my couch often feels more inviting than the flat impersonal mattress of my bed.

I was aware of a sex scene happening behind me, a seduction twenty-five minutes in the making, and at the same time developed an intense craving for cheese fries. It was what the two lovers had shared moments earlier at the fast food drive-through. Some kind of Freudian desire on my part? One can only wonder.

I figured it had been long enough since I brushed my teeth that a snack wouldn’t taste like peppermint or Listerine. Toast and cream cheese. Right food groups, wrong foods. But it did the trick.

Now almost 4:00, back on the couch with toast and tea, wide awake again, back to square one. Another hour needed settle down once again and have any hope of going to sleep.

Today at least it’s only 2:00, but that craving for cheese fries is coming around again, and today all the equipment I need is waiting for me in the fridge. Not exactly an appropriate midnight snack, but it’s just Friday night. The regular dirge of academia is still more two days away, and until then its all the late-night melted cheddar I want.

Come late Sunday night it might be insomnia. Yesterday, and tonight, it’s just a lazy ass good time.

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