It is now day four of my polyphasic sleep case study and I have never seen our kitchen so clean. This is the second morning in a row that, looking for something to do with all this extra time, I cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom. The pros of polyphasic sleep it would appear at present moment, all seem to be felt by my girlfriend who has slept better now that she only has to deal with my tossing and snoring for a couple hours a night and who wakes up each day to a clean kitchen and (2 out of 3 mornings) breakfast. I am unfortunately still waiting for the full benefits of my new sleep cycle.
Wow, that first post was more cracked out than I ever imagined it would be. Hilarious. I literally rolled out of bed and sat in front of the computer to write that whiney installment. My goal was: write blog post, get in bed, forget I ever heard of polyphasic sleep. But I was able to shake off the 3am patina of delerious thinking, eye crusties and incoherence. Lucky for me and my case study, I am a 3 hour core-sleep and one 30 minute nap into my polyphasic experiment. I even had a dream during my nap, which would suggest that I entered REM.
Yea. And though I do feel pretty awful (and a little bit like I have to go to the airport) the worst part is getting out of bed as Julie is getting into bed. Almost didn’t get up at all. If this experiment is abruptly ended, it’s because I can’t justify a schedule that threatens the time we spend together.
Check this shit out!
Crime Horse still in the stable. Details to follow. Someday.
The WORLDWIDE RELEASE of Crime Horse has been delayed to January 1st. Because, um, I, um…haven’t….made it yet.
Ok. See you January 1st!
My mother recently sent me this article. This is true, I think. I will add some of my own trickery/being-tricked-by after the passage:
“You’ve got to go there with the intention of learning life lessons. If you go there with your dukes up hoping to win the argument, all you’ll gain is their scorn, and you’ll return to the states uninspired and unchanged. Do not imagine that you know more than Paris. Paris has been put on this earth to teach us all a little humility. You bow to it; you don’t even presume to salute it. Who are you to speak as an equal to Paris? Paris is the beginning and the end, the first and the last, the yesterday and tomorrow of beauty and refinement. In Paris you learn to toss your salad seventeen times, and to peel an orange with a knife in a curvy column of rind that’s several feet long if you take the time and care. A French mother doesn’t watch her daughter grow up wishing for her to be the captain of the girls’ soccer team. A French mother schools her daughter in the delicacies of boy-girl/man-woman politics. Above all, grace. Above all, elegance. Above all, knowledge. A French mother teaches her daughter how to be her own person within a relationship (how to hold her own), how to expect and how to cause beauty.” – from “It’s Worth the Trouble” by Barbara Waterston
Wow, that article pointed to some really true things. I have been doing what she says, I have been humbled again and again in Paris like it is a difficult country line dance, but you have already found yourself out on the dance floor and you have to at least try. Most recently, Chris and I went out to a café for him to read his theorists and for me to work on my translation, on a laptop computer. I plugged in my computer and after 20 minutes the owner came over and gave me a talking to about using their outlet for electricity. She was steaming and sassy. I knew just what to do. Instead of shrink inside and feel humiliated, I pouted my lips, raised my eyebrows, shrugged and said, “I’ll unplug it then,” in the same way that you would say, “You go make the sandwich.” No skin off of my back. I left with my computer out of battery but my pride intact. I too can play their little game.