Wo Ist Hypnos?

Ever have one of those nights where you just CAN’T keep yur peepers open? You can’t finish a page of the ripping yarn you’re really into and, ya know, the big climax is just coming up.

You’ve finally given up on wakey-wakey world, you’ve set the book down on the floor by the bed and turned off the light – you’re ready to, full on, take Hypnos and his son Morpheus in a warm embrace.

What happens then? *BOOM* Those eyes that, seconds ago, kept involuntarily drifting shut? That brain which couldn’t hold a coherent thought. Yeah, them. All of a sudden you’re puzzling over the big issues of the day. Like:

• How can it be that an otherwise intelligent woman, a friend, would vote for a Republican?
• Will the Russians (with full Republi/Fascist support) steal another election?
• WHY does Massachusetts, the ONLY state not to vote Nixon, have a Rethuglican gov????
• Will my eye ever heal?
• What will recovery from this next brain dealio be like.
• Will my next spine MRI indicate that this is a surgery year for that too? Can the cutters, long as they’ve got me on the table anyway, do tête and the old colonne vertébrale in one go? It’d save time and shit…right?

That was me last night (bet that comes as a big surprise, eh?). After an hour of this, I gave up, took my ripping yarn and reading glasses downstairs to keep Coco company.

She was thrilled.


Here's the great thing about last night – I did NOT indulge in midnight pecan pie consumption.  I'm so proud of me!