I awoke at 3 a.m. Read a bit about French politics in the Thirties. Thought that would put me to sleep but it didn't. When you are reading about people who are more worried about legislating a two week vacation requirement than about the Nazis, that can get the heart pumping. I could hear the dog thrashing about, rearranging her bed on the floor, no doubt wondering about the sanity of her owner. I'd had a dream in which there were conversations with Nelson Rockefeller and then Richard Burton. I wanted to fall back to sleep so I could find out what Burton had to say. We were in a bar.
Since I was awake, I began to plan what could get done if I just got out of bed and started working. It was too early to mow the lawn but some writing was possible. Could a novel be finished before breakfast? I started to list other projects and then, zip.
Better than counting sheep.
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