Earlier this evening, at a Multiple Sclerosis benefit with which many of my friends and acquaintances
were involved, I explained that I almost certainly wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Why? Because I'm flying to Louisville tomorrow and have almost never been able to get shut-eye before air travel.
Someone asked if it was because I get nervous. I explained that it's actually more like excitement and the sense of there being too much to get done. Maybe that is
another way of describing nervousness. But if there's anxiety about my means of transportation submerged somewhere within my insomnia, I just can't perceive it. On the contrary, the conscious part of me definitely looks forward to the opportunity to be on a plane. And in airports, for that matter.
Even though I theoretically have a good deal of time to myself these days -- for entirely the wrong reasons -- the reality is that I spend my solitary hours either talking on the phone, texting or waiting for it to make a sound. It's like I'm "on call," in the way that doctors are, never really able to relax. The joy of flying, until they finally finish installing wireless in the coach seats I buy, is that my phone really and truly shuts down for the duration.
You know what? I think I might try to break precedent this time. My flight leaves late enough tomorrow -- out of Phoenix, albeit -- that I can probably sleep until 6am or so without getting too far behind. First, though, I 'll need to get into sleepy mode. I'm hoping that a substantial midnight snack will do the trick. Here goes. . .
Tags: autobiography, everyday, travel
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