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It’s amazing the things that go through your head at 2:27 a.m. and you can’t sleep. Some of you know about this, some of you don’t.

I have to say, insomnia is unusual for me. I don’t get the recommended eight or so hours a night, usually just six to seven, but it’s what works for me.

Last night? I got three. I was sitting in a meeting earlier today and I swear to God, if the woman next to me hadn’t offered me one of the mutant-sized Tic-Tacs, I’d fallen asleep right then and there. Thankfully, I got the mint (and a back-up, just in case) and powered through the meeting.

But as I was laying there, counting the stucco bump on the ceiling last night, I think I figured out what caused my detour from Lilly White’s party (as my mom used to call going to bed: “All right you three [me and my brothers] time to head for Lilly White’s party.” Ahhh, childhood). Anyway, I think I figured out my problem.

The night before, Saturday, I’d stayed out late and didn’t get home until 2:30ish. But it was what I did before that that is the root of my problem. (Right now? Typing with my eyes closed because it feels like sleep. How sad.)

Q. How do you know you’re getting old?
A. Your idea of “pre-gaming” for a night out includes a two-hour nap.

Yeah, I did that. (In my defense, I'd also gone on a long-for-me bike ride earlier that day as well.) Probably wouldn’t be a problem, ‘cept Sunday afternoon I dozed off while reading. I was probably out for a good hour or so. This, I think, hit the ol’ sleep pattern reset button in the brain.

But getting back to the thoughts. Some of them were pretty cool: like flying above the desert and water and grassy plains and any other relatively flat surface you can think of at high speed; that naughty little waking dream I had about … well, someone; it was right about here at, say, 12:33 where I was just about asleep when

BAM!

I swear my upstairs neighbor was trying to get his name into Guinness by going after the post-midnight bowling ball dribbling record (the record, btw, is two).

Instantly I went from the warm embrace of Never-Never Land to total wakefulness and instant readiness to repel any intruders. Damn my amygdalae! I said good day, Sir! Wish I could have said good night.

So, ‘bout 10 minutes later, just as the quart of adrenaline has leached from my system, I guess the guy figured he really really really needed that record ‘cause:

BAM! again.

And that was it. Until after 3. So I put the time to good use updating my email address book. For some reason, my Outlook address book didn’t make the move from the PC (Evil Opus) to the Opus III, my new Mac Mini. (It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up).

I did use the time for one productive project between my ears: I thought up a couple of topics to write about this week. And they’re really good…but I was so tired I forgot most of them. You’ll just have to…yawn…make do with…yawn…what I can rememberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr (Editor's note: Foggy's nose was removed from the "r" key at 2:29 p.m. EST.)