The Last Sleep

The New York Giants looked like they might be happier playing beer pong. The wife was out cold. The dog was out cold. With 1:57 left in the Sunday night game, I turned off the TV and fell immediately asleep. I had a dream that the editor of PokerNews had turned me into a sort of money mule and was giving me 5% of the cash I carried. I stuffed $200,000 in my shirt where my muscles should be and then woke up wondering why I bothered. I slept for nine hours and woke up feeling about as tired as I was the night before.

That, I think, was my last real chance to sleep between now and, eh, October. In the next few weeks, I will travel on a hella road trip with the entire family (including the dog), visit my parents, play guitar in a friend’s wedding, and then stay up basically all night for 16 days straight. Sleep will likely come between 6am and noon every day. It’s a stupid time of year and–with the exception of seeing all my friends at the wedding–I’m not looking forward to much of anything in the next three weeks.

That, I hope, will serve as some explanation for anything odd that may show up here in that time. I don’t have anything odd planned, but based on the level of stress and fatigue I expect to experience, you never know what will happen.

Be warned.