Sleeplessness

I have had trouble sleeping of late. Truth is, I've never been a good sleeper. Unless I am brutally exhausted, I usually lie awake for ages before I drift off. This gives me an inordinate amount of time to think.

Thinking, it must be said, is a double-edged sword. When things are up-up-up, you can lie there for hours with a grin on your face, running through wonderful events in your head, and planning in infinitesimal detail glorious plans for the future. Those are the good nights.

The bad nights are somewhat curious. It's not so much depression that gets to me, as restlessness, boredom, and a vague sense of disappointment.

Tonight, in my mulling, I discovered all at once the source of all my troubles, the core problem from whence all my irritating cognitions stem.

You ready for this? I wonder if I should charge. The reason for all my unhappiness, very possibly all your unhappiness, is quite valuable. How do four installments of $49.95 sound? Really? How about if I threw in some steak knives? Where the sun don't shine, you say? Dear gods, that would be painful. Alright, alright, I'll tell you.

Impatience. Cool, huh? That's it. The frustration that I feel at not being exactly where I want to be subsides as soon as I realise that someday I will be there. I'm but a youngster. There is so much in front of me. Someday I will have that talent, I will have that fame, and I won't feel so lonely. So the only reason I have to feel bad is that I don't have all that stuff today.

And really, a little impatience is nothing to lose sleep over.

Is impatience the source of all your worries?