Insomnia is weird shit. I’ve suffered with it on and off most of my adult life, not all the time but frequently enough to know that getting stressed about it makes it less likely I’ll fall asleep so I just try to accept it. Usually I get up, or I read or do things that make the eyes tired like poking myself in them with a Pontiac Firebird. Mostly I write the majority of that night’s sleep off and decide that I actually DID want to start my day at five am after about twenty minutes sleep.
The entire day following a bad insomniac night is dreamish and shimmers at the edges like jellyfish buttocks. Unless jellyfish lack buttocks, in which case some other part of their anatomy that is shimmery and dreamish. The eyes are especially freaky, possibly because there are bits of Firebird still floating about in them. A common British phrase for this sensation poetically describes having ‘eyes like piss holes in the snow’ but if the pisser has been backed up for some time the piss hole could be wide as well as deep. Or if the pisser is a woman the piss hole could get the hem of her dress or trousers wet.
Who pisses in the snow anyway? Arctic explorers, yes. Bear Grylls and Kellyanne Conway, of course but they don’t know any better, they’re virtually savage. But the chances are very slender indeed of somebody using that phrase who has genuinely seen enough piss holes in the snow to make a comparative judgement about the state of an insomniacs’ eyes.
Please don’t wake me, no don’t shake me, leave me where I am, I’m only sleeping. Yeah, Beatles lyrics. Cool, huh?