Fear the Crab

I fucking hate insomnia.

I know I’m tired. I only had 4 hours of sleep last night. I can feel it in my head, and my body is lethargic and slow. But when I close my eyes I see daylight. I thought I read somewhere that someone referred to an idiot’s sight, but I can’t remember where and I don’t even know if it’s real. It’s that vision in the closed eye that sees things clear as crystal water, but in my case it’s just a bright haze that nothing can shut out. Blackout curtains, eye shades, pillow over the face, nothing helps keep that damn light from filling my mind.

The bed isn’t comfortable. I can’t find the right spot, the right position, to just relax. It’s hot under the covers, so I kick them off. Now it’s too cold. My shirt pulls, my collar chokes. My shorts feel like they can’t decide between giving me a wedgie or castrating my balls, so they do both. The pillow feels like a rock, and no matter how I lie it feels like my neck is made of concrete.

I hear every damn noise in a 20-mile radius. There seems to be a large dog in every backyard up and down my street, and the little rats yapping away in the valley sound like they’re right outside my window. I hear some kid screaming somewhere; I can’t tell if it’s in pleasure or pain, but I derive no relaxation from either thought. It sounds like everybody has a car or moped with an illegal muffler, blaring, whining and rumbling for seemingly infinite stretches of road.

I can’t stop thinking about every inconsequential thing. Most of what I think is unimportant trivial matters; what am I wearing to work tomorrow, what I will eat. They are fleeting thoughts, but as each shifts to oblivion it is replaced with another. Through it all I can only think of why I can’t sleep, and of course there is no answer.

I’ve tried to mentally will my body to relax, focusing first on my core, spreading out to my limbs. I can feel it working, similar to a meditative state. Unfortunately I can’t seem to ignore the outside world. Somewhere a dog has started barking again. Another modified car roars through the suburbs. Each blast of noise gets me really pissed off, even though I know in the deepest recesses of my brain, that it’s stupid to get mad at and there’s no real reason for it. I have a feeling the next day is going to suck. Seriously.

I seem to have forgotten to update the events following my overnight sleep study. After a consultation with the doctor, we decided to try a “take home” sleep test using a Watch PAT device.

Watch PAT

Continued ~

Harken back to the tales of old, when a man’s home became his fortress, besieged on all sides by the noisy conspiracies of cockroaches in flight, saved at the eleventh hour by the timely arrival of nose-borne boogers.

Listen well, then, when I describe the true-to-life account of the same man’s further adventures in home defense!

* * *

I was jarred awake by a crash, a sharp crack of decibel followed by the trickle of something in cascade. It sounded like breaking glass. Yes, the sound of a window break, accompanied by the tinkling of glass on the floor. Adrenaline-rush, on!

Whilst waiting for my super-Hulk-powers to formulate, I made the split-second decision to grab my collapsible baton, the one I used to carry with me on bike rides. No intruder would walk away from this encounter with an un-bumped noggin.

Maile worriedly asked what was going on, but I had to quickly calm her before entering Rambo-mode. I apprised her of the situation, then crept into the hallway, straining my ears to detect the sounds of further intrusion.

Stop! Wait by the doorway before proceeding. The killer may lurk beyond. Darn, I should have brought one of Maile’s dental mirrors to check around corners. I hoped it would not be a fatal mistake.

I had to chance a peek into the living room. The cold light of my blue LED clock cast disturbing shadows, but yielded no other movement. My eyes were well-adjusted to the dark, and I saw nothing out of place. The windows here were not broken. I continued down the hallway, stealing a glance into the empty bathroom and adjoining bedroom. My next destination was the kitchen, likely the source of the intrusion into my domicile.

If the intruder was in the kitchen, the battleground would be a tough one. If this person did not have a weapon, one could easily be found within the many cabinets. I could only hope that their search for utensils would be akin to mine (fruitless and frustrating, thanks to countless reorganizations).

The ambient light from outside filtered through the frosted louvers, glaring across the many silhouettes of pots and pans, and threatened to reveal my approach. Behind me, the wall was illuminated by this soft light as it streamed through the doorway I was next to, therefore I could not peek around lest I cast my shadow to amplify my presence. I now had a decision to make.

The light switch was on the other side of the wall I was against. I could easily reach my hand around the edge of the doorway and bathe the area in fluorescent luminescence. This would possibly serve to blind the intruder temporarily, and enable me to rush in and incapacitate my opponent with a swift chop to the back of the neck, ala Star Trek. However, my own vision would suffer the sudden burst of brightness.

My only hope would be my intimate knowledge of the kitchen layout (just, you know, not the contents of the cabinets). Having tread many a path between the tables and chairs, I could let my body’s memory of the area guide me into position during the few milliseconds available to me. It just might be enough.

Decision made, I switched the baton to my off-hand, slowly reached around the edge of the wall and pressed the light-switch. With a guttural cry from my bottom, I charged forth, stepping into the blaze of battle to challenge the intruder of my domain.

Nobody was there. The kitchen was empty, no one hiding behind the counter, nor in the sink. Both microwave and stove were devoid of life, and the toaster was untouched. The windows were intact, the doors secured, and a quick inspection of the outside yielded no signs of trespass.

This was not a trick of my imagination. I clearly heard the sound! Maile heard the sound! What was it, if there was no intruder and every barricade to my castle was left unbroken? I gripped my baton tightly. Something had come. It had gone without incident, but it had made its presence known, nonetheless.

On high alert, now suspicious of every shadow, I returned to my den. Disturbed by this recent activity, I could only find solace in the fact that when danger threatened, I was ready to defend and protect my family and home. Perhaps, some comfort could be taken from that.

* * *

Maile, in the course of these events, sleepily went to the bathroom and found that her razor, normally hanging from a suction-cup hook in the shower, had fallen. The suction had come loose and both implements clattered upon the shower tiles.

She just didn’t bother to tell me until I came back to bed.

I remember the second night of living alone.  My ears were still not accustomed to the sounds of an empty house, and I’m sure sleeping in the master bedroom accounted for a different perspective than where I used to bed.  It still put my body in alert-mode, wondering if the noises I’d hear meant something wicked was afoot.

Just so happened to have woken up at 0015.  I wasn’t sure what jarred me from slumber, but I immediately went silent and started to listen.  I needed to hear if there was a burglar, a ghost, or maybe even cockroaches!  And in that moment of traversing the list of things that could kill me, my ears picked up a strange, haunting note.

It sounded like a very very low whistle.  Or was it the sound of the beating of wings?  A buzzing vibration?  The sound was too clear to be what I figured a ghost would make, and I never heard of a burglar with a portable fan, so it had to be the #1 destroyer of sanities, the cockroach!

My first thought was, “Do cockroaches make noise?”  I heard tales of roach sounds shattering the minds of men, but no one really told me what that noise was (further proof that roaches are a bane to human existence; no one who heard the sound lived to tell).   And in this thought process, I heard it again.

That strange, alien sound.  It was coming from another part of the house, it seemed.  Fainter, yet distinct.  This thing was moving.  It was casing the house, determining the best angle of attack.  Oh, things are going to get dicey.

But I didn’t hear it again.  I turned my head, listened some more.  Nothing.  Uneasy, and a bit creeped out, I went back to sleep.

0145.  Bolted awake.  That sound!  I heard it in my dreams!  Quickly I listened, but it was quiet.  Too quiet.  It had to be a cockroach, or some other strange insect fluttering around my house.  Maybe it was the beating of wings, or maybe it was the chomping of mandibles.  The only thing certain was that it was alive, and it was INSIDE.

It sounded again.  That buzzing noise, that low whistle, echoing above the beating thunder of my heart.  It was close!  It was so distinct, so vivid, that it could come from no other place but in my room!  It was HERE!

…

It was my nose.  Seems my nasal passage congested to the point where every exhale made the boogers vibrate.  My nose was fucking snoring.

I almost overslept for school, but thankfully I was only asleep for an extra half-hour. The mere shock of it jarred me fully awake, though towards the end of the day I started to come down from that high. Took a nap after dinner, and now my throat is itchy. Perhaps it’s all the dust in the air and in my room.

So now I’m a bit more awake, but bored. I talked to Maile earlier, and after a very pleasant conversation she went to bed because she has work tomorrow. She also must register for next semester, so it remains to be determined how she will register and work at the same time. I know she can do it.

Now that everybody’s asleep, I don’t know what to do. I’ve done whatever homework there was for me to do, and I don’t feel like studying for the 241 exam coming up next week (which I will not be graded on, since I dropped the class; I just want to see how well I would do). I puttered around a bit on CheesyMUD, but that got to me after a while, and now I’m just twiddling my thumbs wondering what to do next that doesn’t require a whole lot of activity, yet still keeps me amused.

Or perhaps I will just sleep.

I had another bug-in-the-ear incident this morning. I awoke to feel something tickling my hair, so I tried to brush through it, but since I had just woken up, it ended up being more of a slap. I figured that was the end of it, when suddenly I felt something tickling my ear, this time. When I stuck my finger in, I felt something big and prickly, and immediately sat up. I found one of those big “drunken beetles,” quite dead and on my comforter. I call ’em drunk because they fly around in circles and always ram things like the ceiling, walls, lamps, whatever. They’re big, maybe a centimeter long, and they have a hard shell. Except this particular one no longer had the protection of its shell, since I had whacked it open.

I would have preferred something smaller, like those flying ants.

I didn’t get a chance to talk to Maile tonight, because she fell asleep before I got the opportunity to call her. She did have to wake up early and run some errands, and she was probably out all day. It’s understandable that she’d call it an early night.

Woke up this morning because my ear was itchy. I stuck my finger in, scratched little bit, and tried to go back to sleep. It was still itchy. So I got up, got that ear pick thing, and went to work. Everything went fine and good until the pick brought out two of those flying ant-like bugs. Ew.

I have officially been up for a little more than 24 hours. My eyes are killing me, and my brain is fuzzy, but I can’t seem to fall asleep. I made a mention to write down some things that happened to me today, but I can’t remember anything except kisses and the first night stand.

Irene called me up at midnight this morning, and wanted to know about some unemployment papers she got after reapplying (or extending) her benefits. I confirmed that she only needed to send the checklist if the information listed was incorrect. She also asked if I sent in my tax forms for unemployment, but I had to admit to her that I did not receive such documents, and thus could not help her. I did refer her to George, though, because I believe he had received said items.

Then she asked me if I had been sleeping, and to that I responded that yes, I had been alseep since 2100 hours. She was very apologetic, because she had thought I got off of work at 2315, when I had the early shift and wanted to get a full night’s sleep for school.

As it turned out, it was all for naught. After the phone call I couldn’t go back to sleep. Everytime I tried to close my eyes, they’d pop back open again. The weather was muggy and warm, too, which made it uncomfortable. I decided to just stay up, and now my mind and body is paying for it.

It is interesting to note that when Irene called, I saw her name and number on my caller ID. As I picked up the phone, I had momentarily thought my voice would sound sleepy-like and groggy, but instead I probably had the most pleasant-sounding voice I ever had. I still must have sounded sleepy, because Irene picked up on it. And Maile has seen and heard a difference when I speak on the phone to people, depending on their gender.

Today was a blur, no doubt because of my sleep-deprivation. I do remember that in 241, after four weeks of instruction, I got one of the in-class examples correct, without help. Of course, next week’s notes will likely revert me back to square one.

In 211, I earned an audience participation point. My exact words to earn that point were, “Uh… yes.”

Today I did absolutely nothing, and it was everything I could have hoped it would be. Actually, I did putter around online for a good bunch of hours, but was idle time since my homework for the day was done. Took a nap, spent a little time with Titan, ate some steak for lunch and some pizza for dinner, and that was about it.

Maile, on the other hand, had a lot of homework. Most of what she had to do was all from her history class. I remember one of the self-test questions being “Why slavery in Mesopotamia is enlightened?” I have no idea what that question is asking. Is it saying that the concept of slavery is enlightened, or the slaves are enlightened? Without any understanding of the question, perhaps the only hope is that the rest of the class doesn’t get it, forcing the professor to remove it.

Must try and sleep tonight; tomorrow’s another early riser.