I am a boring person. In fact, I am so boring that I have the unique ability to bore myself to sleep. It sounds like a dreadful affliction, I know, finding yourself so boring that you can't keep your eyes open, but there are some good points. As long as you're not behind the wheel at the time.
At 48, insomnia becomes a way of life. You toss, you turn, you read, you walk around the house, you get a drink, you visit the bathroom a time or two, but still no relief. This came as a bit of a surprise to me, because I never had a problem with insomnia until I was 40, when it became my constant companion.
Cartoons frequently show sheep passing overhead while the long-suffering insomniac lies helplessly, waiting for blissful slumber. Personally, I have not found sheep to be especially soothing. They bleat. They bang into each other. They smell weird. They run in all directions. They are disorderly, and they aren't very bright, either. I don't know about you, but that isn't restful to me. Reminds me too much of our government. And if that thought doesn't keep you up nights, then you are not paying any attention at all.
Do you suppose dogs ever get insomnia? Because I have never seen a creature that can fall asleep any time, any where, like a dog. We are in the middle of a walk, I stop for a minute to chat with a neighbor, and they are laid out cold right there on the sidewalk. It's an amazing talent. I am envious.
I am thrilled to report that several years ago I found the sure-fire cure for falling asleep, and it works like a charm every single time I use it. It is chemical free, and requires nothing more than my own brain. If only I could patent it, I would be a millionaire, and heaven knows, I want to be. The spectacularly simple solution? I bore myself to sleep.
You scoff, but I say, try it. What do you have to lose? Just how interesting are you, when it comes down to it? What do you do in a day? What do you think about? Do you read great literature? Do you analyze classical music? Do you direct an international corporation, or the American economy? I'm guessing not, or you wouldn't be reading my blog.
Most of us are, at the very bottom, relatively mundane, hum-drum Little People. Although we are important to the people we love, and who love us, and we may be important to our work place, even, we are the ones for whom the rules apply, and for the most part, we lead relatively simple lives. But in that reality lies the key to falling asleep, at least for me.
I am a fan of the English cottage mystery story. I have a copy of every book Agatha Christie ever wrote, which is an achievement, since she wrote over 80, some in an pseudonym. They are simple, yet teasing, and I have always admired her style and flair for the surprise. I used to think I could write a mystery, if only I put my mind to it, and that is where this little story begins.
I was sitting in the dental chair, undergoing a root canal, when the idea for a mystery story popped into my head. I was in great pain; I had once again waited far too long to have the work done. [Denial is a family trait that I have perfected. For proof, look no further than my wedding photos.] Anyway, at that vulnerable moment, I felt that endodontist was the right hand man of Satan himself. Which is when I had my revelation.
I felt murderous, which explains how I escaped my present by dreaming of a mystery in which a dental patient suddenly dies, the dentist gets blamed, but then, suddenly, out of nowhere, there comes a Columbo to investigate and a Matlock to defend the hapless dentist....
See what I mean. Every time I lay out the plot, I fall asleep. I have never gotten further than the barest outline, because the only time I think about this story is when I am fighting to lose myself in slumber. I think it has a lot of potential, but I'm afraid to flesh it out in the light of day, partially because I don't know where to go with it, but mostly because I don't want to lose my sure fire cure for insomnia.
Now, I am not saying that everyone with insomnia should write a story. That would be silly. I have a particular talent for writing boring literature, obviously. You need to find and go with your own talent, whatever that may be. If you are bored with math, do equations. If you get bored with the history of your day, think about it. Whatever bores you senseless during the day will probably bore you to sleep at night.
Okay, my work here is done. I have now saved the sheep of the world from the fate of jumping over your head each night as you lie awake cursing the darkness. After all, they have feelings, too.
