I am gifted in a couple of ways. I can eat inhuman amounts of popcorn and still be hungry. I remember obscure words from languages no one has ever heard of. I excel at picking up sticks. And I can sleep. Man, oh man, can I sleep. If someone would pay me to sleep, my income would put Bill Gates to shame.
But not last night.
Can’t blame the hotel – it was quiet here. People are polite and go to bed at a decent hour in Goshen, IN. The Diet Coke at dinner? Maybe that had something to do with it, but BH has seen me put away a pot of coffee and be snoring an hour later. I never turned the TV on. I talked on the phone to various family members, but none of them had disturbing news. (Except for the ER trip for stitches earlier in the day – hope you feel OK this morning, Steven.) But I’m a veteran of ER trips. No, stitches don’t count.
My imagination was in overdrive. Every time I’d turn off the light, it kicked back into gear. I’d scribble down the ideas, look at the clock and decide, “Yes, now I will def. go to sleep.” Light out, head on pillow, and – bam! more ideas! Turn the light on. Scribble more. Over and over this happened, from 10 until sometime after 2 this morning. I look awful this morning. My eyes have enormous bags under them that look like water balloons. But I have half a legal pad of ideas, so I’m not complaining.
(No, I can’t tell you what it’s about. I don’t want to jinx this.)
Off to get coffee, then a trip to Goshen High School.