The Noise

I tell ya what, it's hard to sleep sometimes. I'd wager that at least 35% of the time when I start off in bed, I wind up migrating to the sofa so I can turn on the TV (usually ESPNews) and use the white noise to put me to sleep. If I don't, the noise in my head keeps me awake. A lot of times, I'll just go to sleep on the sofa to begin with, just to skip the whole charade.

I walk around most of the time trying to suppress a laugh. It always make me feel kind of weird, like everyone else can notice my trying so hard to press my lips together, like I'm holding something inside (how do you not end that sentence with a preposition?). I am. And most of the time, it's not even something that I'm seeing, it's just about something else that I'm thinking about, some idea that I've had, some completely inappropriate comment I wanted so badly to make, or some conversation that I'd wished that I'd had. The noise fills me up, and it's good, it's good when I'm working (until it prevents me from concentrating) or walking or driving, or doing anything else awake. I bet people pass me in traffic and think "what's the hell is he laughing about?" I get up at work to walk to the printer and I have to pass by a bank of cubicles. So many times I've had to almost turn around and walk quickly back to my desk because I'm literally on the cusp of laughing out loud over something and don't want to have to explain it when it happens because it's never as funny the second time around.

Like "What is so funny Peacock?"

"I dunno, I was just thinking about how whenever I leave this job I'm going to write in my resignation letter that I have finally settled a very large claim... with the enemy from within."

"Oh.... "

It's all well and good until I look like a weird-o or can't turn "it" off long enough to fall asleep. Then the alarm clock goes off, and that's very rarely ever funny, although I usually laugh a little bit when I wind it back an hour. Why is it that each night I get my absolute best sleep between 6:00a and 7:00a?

Anyway, I've got ideas. Always. Some I'll go after and some, I'm sure, will die on the vine.

I want to do a ride along with Captain Herb Emery, the traffic guy for AM 750 here in Atlanta. He flies a helicopter around in the mornings and afternoons. I want to do that with him, see what it's like. How do you do something like that? I did a ride along with a cop one time in Athens. It stands to reason that I could do one with Captain Herb. I had a dream that I did that the other night, I guess that's where I got my inspiration. It was morning time and he and I were flying around I-75 in Cobb County, north of Atlanta, checking out the traffic. All of a sudden Captain Herb decided that he wanted to "check on something" so he slammed the "brakes" on the helicopter mid flight. Scared the hell out of me in the dream. But I still want to go on a ride along with him though. Ah, but they probably got their damn unions. And Captain, you know I'm not a pro union guy.

I can't wait for baseball season. I wish that there was a way that I could go to baseball games every day and then, like, tell people about it, and get paid for doing so. But then the guy who does that probably wishes that he could spend his days writing letters that start off with "Please advise" or "Thank you for speaking with me today, this letter shall confirm...." Maybe Captain Herb wishes he could get some attorney on the telephone and start off with a snappy one liner like "Listen Barrister...."

To think, I used to lie in bed and fear that a certain monkey would attack me the following morning at my college job. Them's were the times. I was in charge of washing animal caging, to the extent that one can be "in charge" of that duty. I'd shut the doors in our washing area, blast the cages with scalding hot water, yelling at the top of my lungs along with the stereo "GIVE ME STEAM, AND HOW YOU FEEL CAN MAKE IT REAL, REAL AS ANYTHING YOU SEE.... GET ALI---IVE, WITH THE DREAMER'S DREAM...." The bottom six inches of my scrubs pants would be soaking wet and I'd be out of breath from yelling song lyrics for several minutes. Best $6.50 an hour I ever made. We used to have to wear nitrile gloves (sort of like latex, only they weren't powdery). One day, I was screwing around and had a pair of gloves on and thought that it would look cool if I taped up my wrists up like a linebacker. So I found some masking tape and went to town, taping my wrists about four inches up from the base of my hands. Then I realized that I neglected to use prewrap. It hurt like the dickens pulling all that tape off, but I had some fun with it.

I guess I've had fun with every job I've had. People may take that as a sign of not taking things seriously, but it's anything but that. How can I take something seriously if I don't enjoy it?

I went home for Christmas one year when I was in college. My folks live fairly close to campus anyway, so it's not like going home was some huge deal. But around Christmas each year, I'd go and spend several days there. I think it was a Wednesday afternoon, that sounds right, when I went home one year. It was early afternoon. Nobody was home. As luck would have it, I had a half empty pint bottle of bourbon in my truck. I know, bad idea to drive around with an open container, but I had it hidden pretty good I guess. Anyway, it was early afternoon, around 2:00p or so. I moved my stuff inside and grabbed that bourbon bottle. I stretched out on my parent's sofa, on my back, holding the bottle in my hand and resting it on my chest. I lay there with my eyes shut until I fell asleep. My mom shows up a little later, I guess she had been out running errands or something, and finds me asleep, on my back, holding a half empty bottle of liquor on my chest. I was awakened by her saying "Oh for God's sake..."

Good night everyone, I hope.