I am having a little trouble sleeping tonight. I wish I could say it was unusual. I was sleepy. I laid down, closed my eyes. No longer sleepy. I read something—the latest Lapham’s Quarterly about homes, which I bought last night—hoping it would induce sleep. But tonight reading just woke me up even more. Plus it’s a bit chilly in here.

My job has me working in the evenings, so I rarely fall asleep before 1 am—sometimes as late as 3. My mornings vanish; a groggy start landslides into another work day, until another week has alarmingly flashed by. Besides my bi-weekly paycheck, I have little to show for my time. I wonder, sadly, if this is the reality of most people—especially my parents and siblings, who have always worked full-time jobs as long as I’ve known them. There doesn’t seem to be enough time to visit people—I can’t even find adequate time to visit myself, if that makes any sense.

It’s quiet in here now. I tend to underestimate how good quiet is for thinking.

When thoughts come to me at work, it’s not much good because I cannot write them down. My job is strictly computer-based—no pen and paper in sight. I cannot complain too much though. The work is monotonous but somewhat interesting, and the people are nice. The hours aren’t the best, but I’m thankful that I can avoid rush hour traffic.

I changed the theme (appearance) of my blog so it’s a bit more plain.