I want birthday cake. Maybe a big dish of ice cream. Nachos with lots of jalapenos would be good right about now, too.
My eyes are closed as I type this because itβs midday and Iβm fading, fast. I swore Iβd never pull another all-nighter, but a clientβs grant application was due, and itβs for $1 million, and not matter what curveballs life has thrown at me this week, I was under obligation, and contract, to finish the doggone thing.
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The worst part is that I did it for much less than I should have, but Iβve written more checks in the past two weeks than I have in the past four months, and needed the money.
Thatβs not such a bad thing. My client gets a break; I get to pay some bills. However, I was completely blocked, and could not write a word for hours. (I did, however, beat my fastest time in Solitaire. After, like, 35 games.)
When Iβm blocked, I canβt produce.Β When I canβt produce, I get stressed. When I get stressed, I canβt sleep. When I canβt sleep, I swear all I think about is food, food, food. Which is why, at 2 a.m., and again at 4 a.m., I went down to raid the βfridge. Fortunately, there wasnβt a whole lot in there that could do some serious damage. I made coffee at 2 β with a big hit of Hersheyβs syrup β and had some Yoplait at 4.
I wasnβt trying to be obedient; my mission was sugar. But there wasnβt so much as a popsicle in there. And if there had been, say, a half-gallon of ice cream, it would have been less than a quart by morning.
Now, weβve all heard that when you donβt get enough sleep, you gain weight. I donβt care what science says: Oneβs propensity to gain weight while sleep-deprived is directly proportional to the amount of ice cream in oneβs freezer in the middle of the night.
Iβve been up since 6 a.m. Wednesday. Itβs now almost 4 p.m., so thatβsΒ . . . 34 hours. Well, 33 hours and 50 minutes. I was able to close my eyes for about 10 minutes around noon, but the songbirds outside seemed especially loud. And they made me think of chicken.
Scientists will say thatβs the ghrelin speaking. Thatβs a hormone that, along with leptin, controls feelings of hunger and fullness. Clearly my hormones are right now out of control, because I want to dive face-first into a bowl of shrimp fried rice. When you donβt get enough sleep, leptin levels go down, and that has to do with feeling satisfied after eating. Sleeplessness also causes ghrelin levels to go up, and that stimulates the appetite.
As I said, I had no intention of ever again pulling an all-nighter. Itβs what I ended up doing, and now I am freakinβ ravenous. This is not a good feeling for a recovering bulimic to have.
After I post this, I think I might close my eyes for a bit, but turning in early is out of the question. Too many season finales on tonight: Flash Forward, Fringe, Greyβs Anatomy, The Mentalist. So, Iβll turn in around 11 p.m.
And try to forget about the Betty Crocker peanut butter cookie mix in the pantry.
Last night I dreamed I ate a 10-pound marshmallow, and when I woke up the pillow was gone. Β ~ Β Tommy Cooper
Leslie J. Ansley is an award-winning journalist and entrepreneur who blogs daily for TheRoot. She lives in Raleigh, NC.
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