Am I the internet's tumor? Or is it mine?

(This is the world's largest meatball. It is relevant to this article because it looks like a tumor and the guy who made it seems pretty happy about it)

I'm pretty sure the internet has latched itself onto my brain. It has done so incrementally, and what seemed like a symbiotic relationship may have become a parasitic one: a tumor. However, it's hard to say which is the tumor, the internet or me. Fortunately there is Arnold Schwarzenegger's famous line from "Kindergarten Cop" that reassures me, "It's not a tumor." If only I could pretend and be that little kid who hangs out with the ferret and brings his toy to the carpet.

But this little boy may never make it back to the carpet. He has found far too many toys and cannot decide (And, he also seems to have continued to speak of himself in third person for far too long). Really. I am writing this revelatory blog entry after 1:00AM.

Some of you might come to my defense and say, "Aw that's nothing man, you're fine. I stay up until 3 or 4AM." Others of you might be appalled. Others of you stopped reading a while ago due to the fact that you don't stay up this late, or just have short attention spans.

Well, I tell myself all the time that I'm going to go to bed earlier EVERY night. And, every night I always find some movie to watch, article to read, friend to chat to, place to go, etc. to etc. Tonight really is no different. Sure I could blame it on the fact that often times my shifts end at 9PM or even close to 11PM or beyond and I still have to make time for exercise. Then I have to clean myself up, eat, veg out, and/or pretend to have a life beyond work.

But I don't have to do anything. I just do.

I also tell myself things would be different if I were married and had a job with normal hours. Maybe so. But who's to say? Maybe I'm just caught up in being caught up for no reason other than a subconscious curiosity or at least some sort of deeply rooted dissatisfaction with the present moment. Or maybe I just want to prolong the moment and live each waking hour as long as possible.

Well that last idea cannot be. I tend to sleep in when I can. But even that's a precarious assumption. Often when I think I get to sleep in I get woken up after being in bed a mere 3 or 4 hours, and then have to pretend like it was 8, and trying to get back to bed is never the same. The dreams, the REM, the beautiful tapestry of synthetic subconscious reverie sifts like sand through my finger tips.

What is the solution? Probably eating more, staring more out the window, and watching Judge Judy reruns. Yeah.

The Greatest Past Time: Sleeping

While you can be sure that baseball is a great past time, I would suggest there is an even better one. One that many people seem only to be able to dream about while awake. This marvelous past time I refer to is sleeping. It is truly a difficult one to master for many. There are however, many child prodigies out there who seem to drop their heads, close their eyes, and start REM at will. What is their secret? Why do so many people who enjoy the past time have such difficultly mastering it?

Well, it's the same as baseball. There are only so many Jake Peavys, Pedro Martinezes, Alberto Pujols and Babe Ruths. In fact, some of our greatest sleepers come around only once in a generation. Some of our greatest sleepers are, however, unfortunately less appreciated and far more scrutinized than anyone entering the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. Those who have this amazing God given skill to sleep and sleep well are often called lazy and unproductive. Usually, I would suggest, out of jealousy. Why can we not appreciate it? Because we want it for ourselves. We cannot enjoy a sleeper's gift the way we can a great baseball player's gift. But, perhaps in the near future, with all those crazy dream and sleep scientists out there, we will be able to experience the beautiful sleep of a true sleeper. Sure, we'll have to be conscious to enjoy their subconsciousness, but hey, it's a step in the right direction.

With greater empathy and insight we might even be able to posthumously admire the former sleeping greats. Here are a few: Ben Franklin, Ronald Reagan, King George III, Harriet Tubman Jimmy Kimmel, Franck Bouyer, Harold M. Ickes, and Lenny Bruce. You may have noticed that some of them are not dead. Even better. We can still appreciate them and further the great past time of sleeping with stars of today.

Here is a link explaining some of these famous narcoleptic's challenges.

New Sleep Aid: Sleep in a Can

Have you ever found yourself unreasonably tired or restless? Do you find it difficult to sleep, or to even find time for sleep when you want it? Well worry no more. From the makers of 'good times in a box' comes something that will make all your sleeping problems go away. They call it 'Sleep in a Can.' It comes in 6 ounce, 8 ounce, and 12 ounce canisters along with a handy spray nozzle. It has been endorsed by the American Sleep Society (ASS) and got a five star rating from the Unique and Probably Not Real Invention Society. 'Sleep in a Can' also comes in different flavors: night terrors, nightmare, falling into an endless chasm, ponies and rainbows, you failed your math test, and yellow.

The six ounce can goes for about $5, the eight ounce for $7, and the twelve ounce for $10. The superpak goes for $40, but gives you a month's supply and saves you $2 a can. And the testimonials are resoundingly positive. John Ungerbrook, an insomniac from Raleigh, North Carolina, says:

"I don't remember life before sleep in a can. Seriously. I don't remember it. I think I was employed somewhere with people and stuff."

Randy Fitzburg of Pocatello, Idaho, had this to say:

"My favorite flavor is yellow. I can be driving down the interstate, listening to my wife talk about her day, or staring at my computer screen, then, I pop open my 'Sleep in a Can' and I'm wading in a sea of yellow. All the sounds are yellow. The cars and trees are yellow. My wife is yellow. My brain is yellow. I can actually see my yellow brain!"

Martina MacDraw from Ceder City, Iowa, says:

"I used to never sleep. My husband's snoring made me deaf in my left ear. But I bought the superpak of 'Sleep in a Can' and now my husband is losing his hearing from all of my snoring, along with all shrieking and yelling that I do. My favorite flavor is night terrors. My husband has even threatened to divorce me. I haven't been more rested in all my life."

To see more equally convincing endorsements go to www.sleepinacanforlife.com. But before you do, get yours today! Dial now! (559)123-4567! Operators are standing by to help you sleep.

***This product is highly addictive. It is not recommended for people with children (because you might be tempted to sell them into slavery to buy this product). It is also not recommended for pregnant women, fat men, people who look like ducks, unfashionable people, nerds, goobers, athletes, or anyone named Fred. Batteries not included.

Last Night's Amazing Thing

Last night something happened.

You might think, "Yeah, and so what? Things happen." Well this thing that happened was amazing. It was empowering. It was unfathomable. Well, maybe not unfathomable, or amazing. But it was life-changing, glorious, edible, fecund, green, and fascinatingly bourgeois. Well, not edible, or green, or glorious. Ok, what happened wasn't really that exciting.

The front blinds on our big window we drawn closed and all the lights were off in the house. Some might think that means we're asleep, or not home. Some might be wrong. My brother and I were in fact watching an episode of one of my favorite shows, Boston Legal. And, our blinds are missing one little piece that gives us inside a glimpse of our front lawn. So, as we were watching, my brother noticed out of the corner of his eye through the open slit in the blinds people frantically running back and forth on our front lawn. He didn't mention this to me until after the show of course, because he's so considerate. 

When he told me that they were putting signs up I got a bit flustered. The reason I was bothered was because I thought it was an old room mate who I had gotten into a quarrel with over a political sign. So we went outside and ripped them all out and put them into a pile and waited. Not too long after we sat down to watch another episode, a dark figure came to our door. We peeked out the window. We couldn't make out who it was. The person was leaning on the door, so my brother walked over, gave the door a yank and we got our prankster. And, it wasn't my old room mate. I cannot say who we caught that night, but it was a victory for us. 

Papers, Papers, Everywhere!

I've been writing too much lately. But, it's really not going to stop any time soon. I've written a big chunky delicious paper each of the past two days (and I should have written two yesterday, but I didn't) and I have another paper twice as big to write for Thursday. I'm a bit light-headed from staring at my computer screen, not getting decent sleep, and some weird bug that's going around.

But who cares! I already wrote a post about how inebriation has helped some artists create better art. So maybe the same goes for me....I lkmef rn.kv krn.kv....pokpwd?.........l;;;;;;;;ytffffffffffffffffffgtrdcrttttttttdxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.

Ok. Perhaps not.

And who drooled on my keyboard?

Nap Time!

Nap time is a magical time. It's a a healthy blast to that age of teething, oral phases, blocks, fire trucks, high chairs, bouncy door harnesses, and a time when the most pressing item on the agenda was pulling the dog's tail or eating lint.

Well, naps have not lost their importance in my life, even as my life has become more complicated (I now don't own a dog, and have substituted lint for pens). I am bad about getting to bed at a regular time, and even if I do, sleep is an uneven proposition that doesn't always come when I want. So, the only way to make up the lost hours, days, or even years is to count sheep on my couch at some point during the day. 

And that's what I'm going to do after I write this (After I finish finger painting and dipping my graham crackers in milk).

I love weed whackers!

Waking up can be a challenge. But, waking up is just one of those things we all have to do. So, if it's got to happen it should be under favorable circumstances. Well, I am so blessed on certain random weekday mornings.

I used to be a landscaper. Let me start with that. It is an admirable profession. It takes creativity, physical strength, patience, and if you're paying for it, plenty of money. Now there happen to be some very zealous landscapers who work on the complex next to my house. They love weed whackers. I love weed whackers. We all love weed whackers. So, what better to wake up to in the morning that that melodic hum and grind of a 1.5 liter weed whacker engine? It's great.

I don't need my alarm clock. It gets drowned out anyway. And, if I try to be sneaky and sleep in, the weed whackers come closer to my room window to make sure I don't get lazy. Next thing you know, they'll bring me weed-whacked vegetable omelettes. They are so good to me. Sleeping in past 7:20am is just not in my best interest, and they know it. Even if I went to bed only a few short hours before, it's a new DAY! Sunshine! Rise and shine! And look, your neighbor's lawn is nice a groomed for the third time this week. 

I know why they're coming over so much too. Pretty soon it will be winter, so they're in overhaul mode during fall to get paid as much as possible even if there really isn't anything worth whacking. That seems only fair. It's not what needs to get done that matters, it's how many times you can trick people into paying you for the same job, as long as they believe its necessary. And I know, they need to feed their little ones, and that's more important than my sleep or state of mind. Bless them.

Road Trips

Road trips are fun, but extremely tiring. Driving, driving, driving and then driving some more is taxing on a guy. I would tend to think it's taxing on anyone. I'm amazed at how truckers can do it. But truly it is not all about the long hours. If you are driving with friends or a buddy, sleep, even when you can and want to is near impossible and hardly ever restful. And, you feel guilty sleeping while your friend is spending hours behind the wheel. Then of course there are precarious portions of the drive where you wonder if your friend is drunk, tired, or just a bad driver.

I like road trips. Again. I like them. They are fun. But, when your friend is driving with one hand on the wheel and another hand and head turned to take pictures at 75 mph you can get a little antsy. That and there's not much you can do when it's not your car. But, the biggest negative to a road trip is a scheduled, go-go-go road trip. That's the one where you don't spend any more than a night in each place and are traveling thousands of miles. Shoot me. It's okay to take a breather. I believe in breathers. It rejuvenates you. On a road trip that's a must. At any rate, it can be cheaper and much more fun than airfare, but just make sure you do it at a leisurely pace. And if you don't, get some good sleep when you get back home. Ah, home sweet home.

Radio America I bid thee farewell!

This is a night to be remembered. Not cherished, but stored away in the fond archives of things I will never have to do again(hopefully). This night, once over, will be unlike so many others. I will never wake, for I will never sleep, but I will leave the office jubilant of a mission accomplished. That's right. Tonight is the last time I will have to pull at all-nighter at work. I started today at 2pm and will remain here until 5am. But it has been a wonderful ride. Full of chinese food, mini-lunch sandwiches, Booeymonger, prank phone calls, incessant yelling for nothing, and hours typing, reading and filling spare moments on facebook, my only outlet other than my cell phone and the hectic corridors of my mind. Oh, and lucky me, I get to work construction all day tomorrow. I hope it rains. Hard.

Insomniac with Michael Powers

Ah sleep I wish I knew thee! I remember those bygone days of deep REM stages and comfy pillows and horribly saggy mattress cushions. It was just you and me. I could talk to a monkey, fight with the transformers and visit friends in Florida all in one night. But now, unfortunately my nights are filled with awakedness. And although it rhymes with nakedness, it is nowhere near as good. Working the graveyard shift is bad enough, but working extra-long graveyard shifts is death to my once dear friend sleep. I hope to find him again...but you never know.