I think it’s obvious that five years of working until 1 a.m., rising at 6 a.m., and stumbling through the day like a zombie? Has ruined my sleep hygiene. Thursday morning my eyes popped open at 4:30 a.m. Weren’t going to close, either. So I grabbed the iPad, read the entire internet, and when I was no closer to sleep than I’d been before and it was 6 a.m., said screw it and headed out into the young day. Rode the bike to the park, swam laps for 30 minutes and rode home, for an I’m Better Than You score of, what? You tell me. If only I weren’t 20 pounds overweight and had the knees of a octogenarian — I could have made it a triathlon morning.
And now it’s 9:30 p.m., and if I don’t fall asleep in the next 20 minutes, I’ll call this day a success.
And the thing is? It seemed I had something more interesting to say, but after a day spent online and on the phone, all I clipped was this link:
If you use the Google — and we all do — you’re probably doing it wrong. Here’s how to do it better.
I think I’m going to have to move some things around, or I’ll never recover this blog’s mojo. I come to it at the very time of day when I’m feeling most tapped out. And yet somehow, something gets published, most days.
Even though, many days, things must be carried along by a photo of a raccoon with its head caught in a sewer grate.
How can such grimy, icky animals be so damn cute?
Something serious, but very much worth the read: Why sexual assault victims do the crazy, contradictory, counterintuitive things they frequently do.
And with that? Zzzzzz.