The Monster In This Post

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I fought through it, but if I'm being honest, I wanted to start writing this morning.

Around 3:15 a.m.

I think -- for most writers (of which I am not one) -- that some of the darkest and, perhaps, most profound material occurs during the loss of sleep. The mind is simply raging with minutiae.

Instead, I tossed and turned. I scanned my phone. I played Solitaire. I played WBGO radio on my Alexa. There's something to be said about jazz -- real jazz -- and it was a nice fit for that time of night.

It wasn't Charlie Parker beebop. It was well-curated jazz meant for the overnight.

It didn't put me back to sleep, but it did sort of cool me out.

I probably crashed again around 6 a.m. but I don't remember.

It's amazing how our habits change. There was a time when I would have immediately grabbed the remote and flipped the TV on. There's constant hurricane coverage on The Weather Channel, and have traditionally been a sucker for that.

Jim Cantore is where? What's the hurricane eye look like? There's a dangling traffic light on Tybee Island, GA? Count me in!

I decided to pass on summoning the energy to watch Cantore or whatever rerun was on late night TV. I also passed on reaching for my laptop, across the room on my desk.

So I stared off into space, looked at my phone, turned off the light, tossed and turned, and tried to find my zen place.

Or whatever. Namaste, I suppose.

I'd sort of drift off, then my body would shake back awake.

"Not yet, silly boy!"

There was no cat to talk to (or meow back at me), as Chico was upstairs, nestled into a box or something. I was tempted to go get him but, at what cost? To have him look at me, say, "Nah," and leave? That probably wouldn't have been good for the ego.

So what's rolling around in my skull, you ask? I suppose the easiest answer (and cop-out) is to say everything was.

My life. My car. My finances. My lack of a confirmed fall schedule. Thinking about being prepared for going to San Francisco in three weeks (yes, I've already partially packed). Prepping for Greenwich/Brunswick/Mahopac football (at least I hope so). The tooth that has bothered me for three months. My heart. My blood pressure. My weight. My diet. Blah blah blah.

Too many variables and no answers.

In the light of day, things can be bitten in small bites. Apply for that job, make that payment, send that email.

In the dark of night, it grows into a beast. Not one under the bed or in a closet. It's right there, on the bed, grabbing a bucket of popcorn to watch you suffer. Extra butter, please.

It's Shrek, lacking any charm or Mike Myers' voice.

This would have been a more nuanced post at three or four in the morning.

Now it's after 10 and it just sounds whiny. Everyone has problems.

So off we go with another day. Doubleheader at four.

Be safe in the hurricane-affected areas.