Down and out

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I’m tired today. Worked overnight, of course.  Although I overslept and woke up an hour late for my Sunday morning log-in at 2 a.m.  There was no work available part of the morning, but things picked up then, so I was busy the last part of my shift, and in fact, worked over on priority jobs late to make my line count for the day.  (That’s how my job as a medical transcriptionist pays.   By the line.  I’m not going to tell you the ridiculously low line rate I work for.  It’s demeaning.)  When I’m overtired like this, I tend to be a bit down.

I’m not sure I have the energy to work all night and still spend more time on the keyboard blogging.  It would help, of course, if I spent less time on Facebook or other sites where I type comments too many hours of the day.  Speaking of Facebook, there is a meme I see on there from time to time.   “Writing is 10% inspiration and 90% avoiding being distracted by Facebook.”  Or some such thing.   The concept is obvious.  And valid.

Not that it would take me any less time to think of something worthwhile to say.   Then again, can I say anything worthwhile?   Am I even capable of that?   Who wants to listen to my ramblings?   (See, there’s that Infernal Internal Editor, again.  The bane of my existence.   The critic that never falls silent.  Self-effacing, self-deprecating and self-loathing.  Unfortunately, it’s not himself the IIE hates.  It’s ME! )  Anyway, on the matter of saying something worthwhile, I had some thoughts.   I know that some years ago I was journaling pretty regularly.   But I noticed that my journal had become page after page of the same tired complaints about the same things that were wrong with my life and that never seemed to change for the better.   And I’m much more prone to seeing the world through those shit-colored glasses when I’m tired and in pain, i.e., after working all night.

That does remind me of something, however.  When I was a good deal younger and less convinced of my uselessness, I was doing some philosophical-based question-and-answer-type journaling.  A one-sided Socratic conversation, as it was.  I coincidentally discovered an author named Hugh Prather, and his book “Notes To Myself: My Struggle To Become A Person.”    I actually had thoughts of writing up these conversations with myself into a manuscript.  I thought that there were answers in those replies.  I don’t have those pages any longer.  (Long story.  Things come and go in our lives.  Those were some of the things that went out of mine.   It’s too bad.  I’d like to re-read them.  Then again, I should reread Mr. Prather, too.  If you’d like to read his work:   http://www.amazon.com/Notes-Myself-Struggle-Become-Person-ebook/dp/B002PXFYQ0/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1410736931&sr=1-1&keywords=hugh+prather)

Anyone reading my web log, if I keep to the spirit of a log, as in a record of my daily activities, is going to hear one phrase a LOT.

“I guess I should actually think about getting some sleep.”  I’m off tonight, Sunday night being my only night off, so it is likely I’ll be back here later.

Sometime I’ll write about sleep.

Nightowl

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