Bone Tired

Sometimes, you just can't sleep. Can't as in mustn't, not can't as in unable to. I think Lewis Grizzard would have referred to it as "cain't", as it connotes a certain sense of urgency (much like his definitions of naked and nekkid; naked means you aren't wearing any clothing, but nekkid means you're not wearing any clothing and you're up to something). Should necessity dictate that you juice every single minute of the day for every drop of time you can squeeze out of it, and though you'd love nothing more than to sit still or rest for a just a few minutes, you simply can't because you feel what you are tending to takes greater priority than your body's pitiful cries for mercy.

At the time of this writing (not posting, mind you, since I've yet to see an accurate timestamp on my blogs), I have been awake for almost seventy hours. Though I am still about a day away from my threshold for physical fatigue, it is starting to wear on me a bit. Second wind? Pffft. I'm probably on my twentieth or thirtieth by now.

I consider different things that might cause us to subject ourselves to such sleep deprivation. I think of new mothers with their new babies; new lovers as they explore, invade, and conquer each other; cross-country truckers eating Slim Jims and drinking scalding, black coffee (yes, it really does work; it has something to do with the meat arousing one's carnivorous instincts, combined with the hot coffee eroding the tender linings of your body); wrapping up a career maker or breaker project; holding vigil over a sick friend, loved one, or pet; journeying to a holy land, or even simply possessing a profound fear of the dark and its nether-realm monstrosities beneath one's bed.

I'm almost ashamed to say that I like this altered state. My brain expands, and with the extra room it seems, at least from this side, to be less cluttered. I think in simpler terms. I refocus myself. I'm balanced on an edge, somewhere between a complete physical shutdown and just barely containing a slightly-nervous energy within the confines of my skin. My hands don't tremble, but my fingertips are freezing. My eyes are clear, but they are so weary. My skin is flushed and slightly dehydrated, even though my ankles swell a bit. My mouth is dry, and sometimes my heart does loopty-loops until I pay attention to it. Otherwise, I'm feeling pretty good.

So why do I? My reason is much less glamorous than those I mentioned previously; it's simply a synapse misfire.

But I sure know the meaning of "bone tired". Bone tired occurs when you are so tired that everything hurts, all the way down to where your muscles are latched to your bones with creaky sinew, and then the hurt leaches into the bones themselves. For me, it's primarily my teeth. Just like I know it's really cold outside when it makes my teeth hurt, I know I'm really tired when they all growl in my jaw if I try to eat a candy bar.

I'll get all the sleep I need when I'm dead.