It’s 3am.

If I’m up past 3am – for any reason whatsoever – I’m doomed to insomnia.  I don’t know if I catch a second wind or if my brain is overactive or what but I just can’t go to sleep.

Last night, I made the mistake of thinking I could finish the last few chapters of a book before I went to sleep.  Well, I could, and I did, but I ended up reading until 3:30 or so.  I stared at the ceiling for a while, in that dazed state you enter when you’re really tired but wide awake, before I gave up.  Which is why I found myself, at 4:30 am, looking for a graduation gift on Etsy.

The other consequence of my magic hour, of course, is that the next day is shot.  I slept for about five hours (thank goodness for late meetings) but I was simply too tired to think straight, despite a much-needed writing session with a colleague for a paper we simply must get out by the end of week.  I finally gave up around 4pm, told her I’d have my part by tomorrow evening, and came home for a three+ hour nap.

There are all sorts of good things about being lost in a book.  My subsequent insomnia is not one of them.