I suffer from on-again/off-again insomnia. Had it bad last night. I think because I started drinking again. Okay, I never really quit, but I cut back to one night a week. Sometimes two. A couple of days before Rita blew into town (well, east of town), I picked up the wine and didn’t really put it down until the end of Saturday night, which meant last night was the first without alcohol in almost two weeks. I probably slept for a total of two hours. And the most random shit was going through my mind. A 38-Special song. The time I saw a band called the Necrotones, a lounge act that dressed up like they were dead – very goth. This bullshit dilemma that I created in my head – if you lost the use of your legs (due to an accident or illness) and were given the following option, which would you choose: to have an operation that had a 50 percent chance of giving you full use of your legs again and a 50 percent chance of death OR to have no operation at all, with the risk of death being that of a normal person’s. How am I going to eventually be able to support myself without having to work in an office to do so. Wondering if moving to Seattle and joining Live Girls! Theater might be a good idea. Continuing plans to eventually be like the Unibomber (without the bomb part) and live in the woods writing my manifesto. Thinking about new tricks I can teach Stella to further her “circus dog” training. On and on it went, like a monkey on caffeine.