the dangers of insomnia

April 1, 2011 § Leave a comment

Holy shit, guys. So I didn’t sleep last night, not a wink, which has kind of been a pattern lately on my non-Sophia nights. And I had exhausted all of my standby nocturnal activities: reading (I’ve been avoiding fiction in the last couple of weeks, and as evidence of why I present to you my mini-meltdown* on the green line Tuesday because one of Mary Miller’s short stories cut a little too close to home for me; I got through another couple pages of Heidegger but gave up before I lost any progress I’d made), music (headphones are at work, and I can’t sing along at the top of my lungs at home at 3am anyway, and it’s no fun dancing if I can’t sing too), exercise (really? you mean some jumping jacks and a couple of crunches don’t count?), eating.

Here’s where the confession comes in – it had not escaped my notice that Netflix recently added season two of the Jersey Shore to its instant watch line-up. Friends, I watched four episodes back to back. (Further confession is that they’re not strangers to me because I watched the first season in real time back when I had cable.) They’re human, like us, and yet a whole different species. I don’t understand any of it on the surface – the clothing, the abnormal skin color, the fire hazard hair, the steroid use that you just know is shrinking their genitalia to prenatal proportions, the ability to treat everyone like shit while claiming superhuman loyalty to friends and family – and yet the more I watched, the more I recognized really basic familiar stuff. Emotionally they’re children. And ultimately what makes it so watchable is that we’re all children emotionally, we see our worst selves played out in their dramas. Or at least I certainly did last night/this morning. And at a particularly delirious point around 5am I wondered if Sammi isn’t in her own way healthier than I am for being able to lose her shit when she’s being disrespected by her ex-boyfriend, for owning up to her confusion and bad behavior after the fact but allowing herself the expression of it in the moment. And then I wanted a gun because no show on MTV deserves this much of my mental energy.

* you know me, so when I say mini-meltdown we’re talking an escaped tear and then some serious blushing and shame*



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