The Insomnia Diaries, Chapter 371

I thought I did a good thing last night. After watching a really neat TCM movie (to be blogged about in the near future), I ate a cookie and drank some milk, did my teeth hygiene stuff, and hit the sheets a little after eleven.

And woke up at 12:30.

Tossed and turned for a half-hour, and judging by my wife’s breathing, figured I’d wake her up if this continued. So I crept downstairs and spread out on the couch with a nice, comfy, warm comforter wrapped about me.

No luck.

Finally decided to thrown in the towel and heading down to the basement to the writing office. This was around 1:30. The writing desk also doubles as the financial desk, and currently it is in a state of absolute chaos. So I decided to make some use of the red-eye and organize my desk: bills, receipts, print-outs from the wife, stuff that should be tossed, et cetera.

While I did this, I hit some very entertaining spots on the internet.

Yeah, I check the gmail, facebook, some news websites, big hollywood, blah blah blah. I have a particular soft spot for a website called cryptomundo and I spent a good thirty minutes going back through its archives. All sorts of cryptid goodiness.

The I switched over to youtube and watched a whole bunch of In Search Of episodes. You know, the Leonard Nimoy series in the 70s that scared the living heck outta me as a kid. I began watching the Amityville Horror episode, but then got a bit too spooked as 3:15 am was approaching and I thought I could imagine glowing eyes looking in the basement windows at me.

I watched two episodes of misguided misfortunates, Michael Rockefeller and Bishop Pike. Michael was the son of the future VP and multigazillionaire Nelson Rockefeller, a kinda kid I envy: all the money in the world yet he pursues his own, individual calling. In this case, anthropology. He disappeared while studying a primitive tribe in New Guinea. The show explores several possibilities of his demise: drowning, shark or crocodile attack, or – headhunters. Bishop Pike was an uber-liberal mess of an Episcopalian priest who died in the Israeli deserts after following a bad map. His foolishness at several points (not staying with the car as his much fitter wife went for help, having only a bottle of soda to drink in 140-degree heat) made him a forerunner of the Darwin Awards. But I’m curious – legend has it that PKD wrote an SF book about the good bishop.

Then I turned to lighter Nimoyan fare: Jack the Ripper. I seem to remember this one from my youth. It’s nasty – the world’s first serial killer, a taunter of police and never caught. It held my interest to the point where I put aside the bills, receipts, and pointless ephemera from my financial life.

Nearing 4:30, I concluded this morning’s insomniac episodes with a visit to Patrick Madrid’s blog, and this priest’s sermon in particular. Please, don’t click on it, and don’t watch it. At least, not if you don’t want your world-view changed.

Okay. I’m reading some Atlas Shrugged in a few minutes, then off to bed to catch up on my sleep debt.