Its 4 O'clock in the morning and here I am again - awake. I've woken like I do most nights, roughly between the 2.30-4.30am mark, (City that never sleeps, eh?) wide awake with nothing left but my thoughts, an overly heated New York bedroom and a bit of tossing and turning in the hopes that might somehow induce my body to sleep. So I do what I always do - turn on the side lamp, perhaps just think, perhaps read a few pages of my book before I remember that my brain is too tired to comprehend any words on any pages or - and perhaps the worst decision - get online. Nothing is worse than that. Getting caught up in a string of Buzzfeed articles, friends posts, unending internet scrolling until I am beyond tired - its like some sort of deep layer/inner tiredness / sad at the state of the world tired...and my eyes hurt. I am so sick of screens. Sick of all the screens in my life. They make me feel dumb and hurt my eyes and give me headaches - my phone screen, computer screens, television screen... at the end of every day my exhaustion seems somehow doubled due solely to the fact that I have screen eyes. But how does one stop it? Beside the social benefit, I feel totally and utterly useless without the internet by my side to tell me things - to educate me, keep me up with the Kardashians and warn me where not to eat. And so here I am, tired but awake, keeping to the odd rhythm my body is in - a rhythm that leaves me almost constantly exhausted and with internet eyes.

And so while lying here awake, the worst and the best thoughts occur. Watching my thoughts buzz in and out of my head at this late time of night is like watching some trippy movie - the type people high on something are the only ones to understand. So what am I thinking tonight? Well...

We have a mouse, perhaps we have multiple - perhaps we have

mice. (

Cue shivers) It is endemic of living in the city (mostly), but I wonder what his (her?) little mouse life is like? Should we have such animosity towards him? Afterall, he is pretty cute - and just trying to survive. And then I get up to get a glass of water and see him scurry (very, very quickly, I might add) from under the fridge into the living room and I immediately decide that the mouse must die.

Its Christmas, so there is an endlessness of lists that I review, repeatedly, inside my head, going up and down each one - mentally crossing things off, adding things on - who to get gifts for, what to get them, what needs to get done before I leave the city, which movies to see in the theater, who I should see and say hello to before going home for Christmas (do they also need a gift?)...what is left on my NY winter bucket list?... I should ask so and so about such and such... until the pressure to remember all of this thinking and all of the things and all of this listing becomes too much and I must actually grab a piece of paper to write it out. Usually the morning light reveals a somewhat crazy and nonsensical selection of lists and things I 'must do' that really have no relevance whatsoever and/or are generally impractical. Because while, yes, it would be lovely to give the only other luddite in my building who actually receives a

paper

copy of the NYT delivered to our doorstep a Christmas gift (some sort of 'camaraderie' gift?...), I've only met him once - George. It was an awkward, brief meeting as we both descended on our papers - I was in pyjamas (braless) having just rolled out of bed, not had my coffee (usually this means I'm mumbling to myself), stumbling through the hall, with smudged mascara, messy hair (and I'm sure bad breath). So in the light of day (the real day) I concluded this was unnecessary and a potentially weird thing to do. Especially if it turns out that he is Jewish.

Sometimes, I do tasks. I've been known to do the 4am run to Rite Aid (you know, because its open) to pick up the items I swear I never have time to pick up during the day (during those same days that I somehow still have time to watch episodes of Gilmore Girls on Netflix ...). These trips usually yield cleaning supplies AND the latest issue of Oprah, some M&Ms or also, perhaps - this time of year - the odd Christmas decoration. Or five. (THEY WERE ON SALE).

I've also always thought it might be quite nice to go to a 24 hour diner when I wake up in the middle of the night - for two reasons; 1) because they are open and well, I can, so why not?? And, 2) this is New York - isn't that what people do? But then I remember that I am make-up smudged and in my pyjamas (braless) and sitting down anywhere for an extended period of time (unlike a quick run to Rite Aid) would require even the smallest of effort to get ready and so, I put those thoughts behind me to remain diner-less and awake at home.

I'll often make commitments that I intend to always keep but never do. Sign up for another marathon - and to start running immediately when I wake up in the morning. But, alas, I am too tired from not sleeping the night before that this never happens. Or, I decide to start a crazy detox diet... until I wake up and all I want are carbs and coffee. Again... the lack of sleep thing (did you know not sleeping makes you hungrier? of course you did). Or, I'll start to budget - rework my finances repeatedly until I land on a budget that looks almost exactly like the one I started with... but inevitably any tweaks that were made end up being removed the next day due to the bad math which occurs in the middle of the night when one should be fast asleep and not trying to count sheep.

And now it is a quarter past 5am... is there really any point now in going back to sleep - now that I have come this far? The nightly dilemma.