Insomnia

Well... I can't fall asleep. I think it's a combination of an uncomfortable bed and an overactive head. The fun thing about being a student is that during the school year, my brain is going constantly, trying to keep up with 22-24 units of course material and homework. By the time, I get to my bed, I am so exhausted, I usually fall asleep somewhere inbetween taking my pants off and lifting my leg onto the first rung of the bunkbed ladder. But, come May 2nd, my academic activity level plunges so low that little stalagtites start to form on the underside of my brainstem. All the sudden, no homework, no classes, no fiftymillion performances—nothing. My brain, thereforre, much like a goldfish that is plunged into its tank without floating in the little baggy to adjust, can't handle the transition. So here I am. It's 3:13 am and my brain is ticking away; suspended tonality, chord plurality, and the lyrics to songs I was supposed to memorize weeks before won't stop running through my head. For some reason, I can't stop thinking about the florentine camerata, a theater group in Renaissance Italy, out of which the stile recitativo and what came to be known as Opera formed. Why, do you ask, is this screaming through my head at this ungodly hour? Because it was the fourth question on my World Theater final, and my brain is still in study mode, even though school has been out for a month. So, here I am. I got up a few minutes ago and ate some pasta that Joel made for dinner. I didn't really want the pasta, I just wanted the savory chicken. Oh, chicken, chicken! Wherefore art thou chicken? Deny thy feathers and refuse thy beak. Or if thou wilt not, be sworn to my tummy and no longer be in the bowl. I figure that maybe eating will divert my bodies attention to my stomach rather than my brain. And boy, do I appreciate some good chicken. Wash it down with a glass of milk and I'm ready for bed. So, now I bid you farewell. I shall return to bed, with thoughts of Italian Theater and shakespearean chicken breast floating in my head. Soon I will have to wake, and endure a four hour drive to LA for a theater arts conference. Wish me luck. Hopefully, a little activity will help my brain swim around in cold waters, with no little plastic bag to aid the transition.