It’s 1:30 in the morning on Monday as I write this.  I fell asleep in my chair around six in the evening Sunday.  I’d had about two hours of sleep Saturday night.  I believe that from Thursday night to Sunday I managed to sleep about 6 hours in total.

     Unable to sleep because I am a night person, the night shift desk clerks at the hotel are my new best friends.  (I hope you are reading this, girls.)  I gave them Dove dark chocolate or Hershey dark Bliss candy every night as I haunted the lobby and slipped outside for a few cigarettes.  They love me.

     I would go to bed, truly I would.  I’d put on my New Yorker magazine dog PJs (go read my, ‘I sent myself a PajamaGram) and I’d crawl into bed around two.  I couldn’t fall to sleep and rather than toss and turn for hours I’d get up again.  Tiptoeing so as not to disturb my roommate, I’d feel around for my light jacket, put the jacket on, load the pockets with chocolate, grab my cigarettes, and slip out the door.

     I’d drop some chocolate at the desk and go outside to the designated pariah corner.  One of these days, I’ll find the will power to quit smoking again—I did it for an entire year once.  However, it’s not easy to quit when DH chain-smokes and he’ll never quit.  So please don’t deluge me with the standard you’re gonna die comments.

     Now if only I can turn off the E-mail away message on my E-mail.  It is refusing to go away.