No Sleep Till Brooklyn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Holy shit, man - when you get old, your body fights back against you.

The Sleep Experiment: As you know I used to get to bed at 10 or 11 - wake up around 3 to go to the bathroom - lie awake until 5 and then fucking improvise from there.

I decided to move bedtime back to 12 or 1 to see if I could make it through the night. I could. I was ecstatic. I didn't wake up until 7, no 3 am bathroom break. This made me feel good about my intellectual powers - I reasoned through a problem and came up with a workable solution.

Until recently. Suddenly, I go to bed at 12 and wake up at 4:30 - and I have to go to the bathroom. Are you fucking kidding me?

I'm dying here. LOS. Lack of sleep. Exhaustion is cumulative - day after day, 4 hours sleep, you get more and more tired until you are a fucking zombie with jagged nerves and a hatred for all of humanity. Or in my case, a greater hatred for all of humanity.

Let's talk bowel movements. I used to go first thing in the morning and be done for the day. Fait accompli. Cross one item off the to-do list. Now, sometimes, I am taking a shit at 10:30 at night.

I don't need that. It is inconvenient. By 10:30 at night I am comfortably ensconced in the recliner, reviewing and regretting another day's defeats. Weary, yes, but comforted in the welcoming arms of this inanimate object that soothes me so.

Related Thoughts: All the wisdom you are force-fed over a lifetime is bullshit. Like you gotta get 8 solid hours of sleep to function. Nobody gets 8 hours of sleep. Nobody wakes up rested and refreshed.

So what do you do with half a night's sleep every night? You just fucking do. You fucking go to work. You walk around feeling high in a way that isn't pleasant. You are not supposed to feel good when you are old. It's in the rule book.

Eat 19 different vegetables every day. Get 30 minutes of aerobic exercise every day. Walk. Count your steps. Lift weights. Don't lift weights. It doesn't fucking matter. When you get old there will always be something to torture you.

LOS. Bad knees. Bad back. Arthritis. Morbid obesity.

And the worst part is that your old body fights back every time you try to make a positive change. It adapts to your adaptation and knocks you back three steps.

By the way, the lack of sleep may be playing into my anger and lack of patience and control at work. Maybe?

Generally: Right now I am just fucking angry. Irate. All the time. Every waking minute of every waking day. Unless I am too tired to be irate - then I am just aggrieved. Actually I back the anger off a little on my off days, but the undercurrent is there to remind me that all is not well. To keep me off balance.

I resumed my search for an empathetic ear - otherwise known as a therapist. Been striking out until recently - one of them said I was too dangerous for her to deal with, but that she could send some references my way. They must be her enemies. Doesn't matter - I'll take what I can get.

Started exercising on a limited basis - the fucking knee is still bothering me. But I trust the new guy - I will see him again in a week or two.

I'm still fucking fat.

I don't know, I am trying, but moving forward at 25 mph while my body deteriorates at 125 mph feels like a losing proposition.

Maybe if I start taking speed...................