My brain knows what I want to say. My body, does not

Time makes fools of us all. Specifically, the required time needed for you to project a semi-understandable speech pattern. It may come to no surprise to some of you that my sleep pattern is not what most people would consider 'normal'. To be normal, I should be on Toronto/New York time, when in fact I seem to be on Vancouver/California time. My (out in the world) job allows me to have this sleep schedule. The pattern that I have developed, though trying to recalibrate, allows me to remain alert in the later hours of the day while some of my colleagues are resting their head in the hands. However, when I miss sleep altogether I am forced to focus beyond instincts.

Feet, walk. Lips and tongue, speak. Those, I can grasp. Not stumbling or stuttering is what my exhausted mind does not allow. It seems the effect that sleep deprivation has on me, is that of the same to the effect of alcohol on my system, excluding the vomiting and/or constant requirement to relieve the bladder. When my coherence is compromised I am almost always aware of this, even when mental exhaustion, alcoholic inebriation and sleep deprivation are combined. Messages on how to compensate are sent to the rest of the body but more often than not, they are not received. If I could say that Murphy's law didn't become the elephant in the room during these compromised moments, I would. *wow* I would be happy if it was true. Unfortunately, new female infatuations always seem to be introduced to the equation during my compromised moments. Of which I have been having far too many of lately. Compromised moments (due to sleep deprivation), not female infatuations.

It has been some time since I have had a normal (there is that word again) romantic relationship. I have had relationships, sleep overs and afternoon delight but the truly intimate part, still escapes my romantic entanglements. What my aging body and mind seem to long for, is what I can't seem to get. "There has got to be one face and one pair of eyes, that will light me on fire when they're looking in mine." I must now digress, if I don't, I will go further off topic.

Predictable behaviour patterns from my seemingly civilized peers indicates that I should be out having inebriated, drug induced 'fun' inspired and motivated by the libido, during the late hours that I am most awake. These escapades may serve their purpose for those who choose to live with no regrets but I can't change who I am. In the end, I would be lying to myself and those around me by faking the fun. Bouncing around from party to party and partner to partner, as if life is one of those inflatable fun houses, can be entertaining and stress free. All until someone pops the fun house and you have to leave. Most people that populate those fun houses are children whom have yet to grow up.

It is true that throwing caution to the wind to enjoy life and forget all the stresses around us has to be done from time to time. Just don't pop the fun house, and be sure to get enough sleep to be awake but not so much that you are no longer alive.