Monday, October 11, 2004

Fire Burn, and Caldron Bubble

In the 1800s, travelers would write down their observations of foreign lands and upon returning home, the more worldy and wise folk would find a publisher for their thoughts and voila, Alexis DeTocqueville emerges as a philosopher. I wonder what someone who could slide around my glia would say upon their return.

I can imagine this sign at one of my synapses describing the bizarre tidal pattern. There's probably a herd of visitors there right now trying to check things out. Some nerdy Dad with a camera around his neck is dragging his bored little kid through an exhibit about the abnormal synaptic activity.

I've been pondering my brain a bit lately because I've been plagued with the return of my daytime tiredness. I expected it would return and, as my body is apt to do, I've fallen into a frustrating pattern. I'm half-awake and unfocused during the day and just as I lay down to bed, I remain exhausted but my mind launches itself into overdrive.

For example, last night I was thinking about what would happen if a terrorist cell detonated a nuclear bomb on the moon. This, naturally, gave way to a bizarre tale of how I found a nuclear bomb in my office at ASU (gotta love Tempe!) and when I tried to alert the nearest law enforcement official about it, he wouldn't believe me and when I insisted, he threatened to institutionalize me. So I went home, grabbed my pets and headed over to my parents. As I was speeding East, I saw the mushroom cloud in my rearview mirror. Surreal.

Anyway, as I was just about to get incredibly cranky about this whole thing, I stumbled on this study that suggests that "abnormal thalamocortical network function may underlie sleep anomalies and complaints of nonrestorative sleep in depressed patients."

Ha! Now all those 14-hour nights of sleep feel more justafiable.

At least my mood is still decent, although I think the bull is about to trample this matador.

That's the impression that I get.