Maybe it's the Starbucks...

It is 12:45 on a Monday night, and I am running out of various things to count in the beautiful Homewood Suites in scenic Mahwah, New Jersey.  I put down the Richard Dawkins, the scientific explanation of why our genes are selfish is a little bit cumbersome when you are trying to sleep - nothing like reading about the sexuality and reason why bees are the way they are - it is pretty exciting stuff, but not the type of stuff that promotes sleep - unless of course you are not really interested in why genes are selfish and why evolution really does make sense.  That's a topic for another time.  So I have been thinking, and I came to the conclusion that perhaps my sleep issues are directly related to the number of starbucks shot I ingest on a daily basis.  Today was 16 - that is four venti americano coffees.  (Like I said, I ran out of things to count) Now I am not what NASA would be looking for in a mission control specialist, but maybe, just maybe I am on to something here. 

I am not big on conspiracy theories, but I would be willing to bet that just about everyone who drinks starbucks also knows the words to every infomercial they show after 3 am, and I think, if we dig deeper, Starbucks is not really making their money on coffee - they are making their cash in snuggies, sham wows, and hair replacement products.  Just a hunch - but my jet fueled metabolism refuses to shut down long enough for me to catch a solid five hours of sleep before I head to the next green cup o goodness.  Perhaps we should hold a congressional hearing about it, and spend some tax payer dollars on something else that could be considered frivolous.  I can see it now, four strung out coffee addicted witnesses reading their emotional statements, bundled up in their snuggies, clutching their eco-friendly ceramic starbucks cup (by the way, those damn things stain, and start to look like spitoons after a while...) The Dems would sympathize and want to start a program that re-educates coffee drinkers to drink crystal light, the Pubs would ask what tax breaks had been given and somehow tie coffee to the muslim brotherhood.  The two or three independents would be wondering how they ended u[ on this committee versus the ways and means committee.  They would air it on CSPAN, right before the Heritage Foundation and right after some book signing in a quaint bookshop in some ethereal named town like Mist, Colorado or Snowybird Brook, Vermont. 

To compound all of this, my upstairs neighbors appear to be training for the latest release of the Cirque or the Blue Man group, or are just plain beating the shit out of something.  Been going on for hours, and I figure someone will eventually get tired, it will eventually get quiet, and I eventually will be able to formulate my conspiracy theories in relative peace.

It is not like I did not have a busy day, or did not get enough physical activity in, or that I am in strange surroundings - I had a busy day, did a routine in the hotel gym, and am well aware of room 113, although I prefer room 345 (no upstairs feats of strength being performed).  Nothing scientifically can tell me that I did not do everything that I was supposed to do to get a good night's sleep - except the starbucks.  Damn conspiracy I tell you.

As far as writing goes, this is pretty much crap, but hopefully it will get rid of the excited nerve syndrome that I keep hearing about for neck surgery folks.  Conventional wisdom says it can take two months to two years to get the nerves to calm down after they go in there and root around with a stick - and if I am any case study, two months ain't cuttin it.  I am wound up tighter than Ben Stein in the Denver Mint, and have been lucky to get more than three hours of continuous sleep...

Sure, I tried the medicinal route - the doc gave me ambien, but failed to tell me that it was highly likely that I would would wake up in my kitchen eating Drumstick ice cream cones naked.  I tried the whole counting thing, but when you count for a living, all that does is get me excited.  I tried the nyquil, the sominex, the tylenol pm - all great, for three hours of sleep.  I tried sleeping with pillows, without pillows, with pillows in various places, with no covers, with covers, with just a sheet, with socks, with long pajamas, with stuffed animals, with cold fried chicken (another ambien episode), alas, three hours.  Not that it is not restful sleep, just that every three hours, I am awake, and end up trying to work through some routine to make that makes me drift off into never never land and enjoy a few more hours with Big Bird and the Giant Hamburger. (Reference to obscure recurring dream that I occassionally have).

So really, the only thing I can think of that is doing it is the starbucks.  Too bad it is not going to do me any good tonight, but tomorrow, we'll lower it to twelve shots, and see if that works.

Sorry for the rambling, but it happens.

George