Insomnia
First night in New York and I can't sleep.
It's easily accounted for, of course. It looks awfully late right now, but it's only 1:06am in California. I stayed up till 3 last night finishing On Beauty and weighing, unpacking, repacking, and again weighing my suitcase. I've been sleeping in excessive amounts these last few weeks, and I slept a little on my second flight this afternoon. On top of which, I'm in someone else's bed, someone else's room.
When I arrived in Park Slope tonight, the Edward Gorey calendar on the kitchen wall was certainly one indication that I'd come to the right place. I took Suite Francaise out of my backpack only to find it sitting flat on Jessie's bookshelf. I love those bits of proof that you're with a friend. The thing is, I'm terribly uninterested in most novels for the first 75 pages or so, and after that I can't put them down. I started On Beauty three different times over the last year, but it was only in the last couple days that I swept through it. Anyway, I haven't reached that point yet with Nemirovsky's novel, so that's no good to me right now.
I'm feeling hot and full (fat) and uncertain. On the plane I wondered, why the vague nervousness? I always think these feelings are diffuse, unattached, as though I'm victim to strange passing fits but immune from more obvious sources of distress. While anyone else might take one look at me and say: maybe it's because you've moved to a new city and are starting your first job on Monday. Maybe, and maybe that's why I can't sleep.
Tomorrow, my friends at Stanford graduate. Congratulations! Now we'll really all be done. And somehow I'm exactly stepping into that fantasy I'd had of post-college life--the city, the job, the new shoes. Doesn't look so great at the moment (except for the shoes), but maybe that will pass.
I'll stop here, and resume the usual insomnia mind-games, trying too hard not to think about the time or whether I should turn the light back on, etc., until hopefully the very effort exhausts me. Check in again soon; there should be much to report these next few weeks.
It's easily accounted for, of course. It looks awfully late right now, but it's only 1:06am in California. I stayed up till 3 last night finishing On Beauty and weighing, unpacking, repacking, and again weighing my suitcase. I've been sleeping in excessive amounts these last few weeks, and I slept a little on my second flight this afternoon. On top of which, I'm in someone else's bed, someone else's room.
When I arrived in Park Slope tonight, the Edward Gorey calendar on the kitchen wall was certainly one indication that I'd come to the right place. I took Suite Francaise out of my backpack only to find it sitting flat on Jessie's bookshelf. I love those bits of proof that you're with a friend. The thing is, I'm terribly uninterested in most novels for the first 75 pages or so, and after that I can't put them down. I started On Beauty three different times over the last year, but it was only in the last couple days that I swept through it. Anyway, I haven't reached that point yet with Nemirovsky's novel, so that's no good to me right now.
I'm feeling hot and full (fat) and uncertain. On the plane I wondered, why the vague nervousness? I always think these feelings are diffuse, unattached, as though I'm victim to strange passing fits but immune from more obvious sources of distress. While anyone else might take one look at me and say: maybe it's because you've moved to a new city and are starting your first job on Monday. Maybe, and maybe that's why I can't sleep.
Tomorrow, my friends at Stanford graduate. Congratulations! Now we'll really all be done. And somehow I'm exactly stepping into that fantasy I'd had of post-college life--the city, the job, the new shoes. Doesn't look so great at the moment (except for the shoes), but maybe that will pass.
I'll stop here, and resume the usual insomnia mind-games, trying too hard not to think about the time or whether I should turn the light back on, etc., until hopefully the very effort exhausts me. Check in again soon; there should be much to report these next few weeks.
posted by priyanka at 4:05 AM
3 comments
