Subway Scare

After getting onto the subway platform, I just barely missed my train home. While waiting for the next one, I heard scuffling behind me one platform over and I saw two rather large men pushing each other on the steps. As one of the men tries to get away, the other cold cocked him in the face. Seeing what was happening in slow motion, and being powerless to stop it, I shouted at the men from across the subway, “HEY, I will fucking call the police, you stop it right now!”

Seriously, I don’t know what gets into me sometimes. I knew I was relatively safe, being a platform away, but still.

The puncher ran up the stairs and for a panicked second, I entertained the thought he could come after me. But, no. I did sort of get a couple people out of the New York stupor, and at least one man asked what happened. I said in the loud voice I reserve for shit stirring, “Some guy just punched that guy and now he’s down.” And he was, the guy was still down and out. I continued yelling that he needed medical attention and the man I was talking to ran up the steps to get the police or an ambulance.

He came back and let me know the puncher was in cuffs and medical people were on their way. Relieved that the guy on the ground was finally getting attention, I got onto the train. But I will definitely be thinking of him. I hope he’s ok.

Failing the sleep test

Since I was an adolescent, I’ve had problems staying awake during the day. Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought, because for the most part, it’s not debilitating. I know that my sleepiness isn’t normal in the strictest sense, but I think it was normalized for me as a kid because my father had the same thing. Despite getting what most people consider getting a full night’s sleep — both my father and I fall asleep if we sit (or in his case, sat) in the same place for long periods of time. Double that if it’s in a car — I will be out within 15 minutes. We both would fall asleep at the most inappropriate times and in inappropriate places.

Dad was diagnosed with sleep apnea, but given my experience and what I remember of his, I think that’s an under- or misdiagnosis. He would sleep eight hours with the CPAP machine and then sleep for more hours during the day. His coworkers used to joke about how you could hear his snoring across the office (a benefit of working for state government was that it was a joke rather than a fireable offense).

As for me, it was a joke in undergrad that I would fall asleep in lecture, but remember everything, to the point of answering lecture questions in my sleep (and being right). I don’t like falling asleep in odd places and at odd times, but I know I will and that it will happen beyond my control. Because of that, I practice some pretty strict sleep hygiene. I don’t take naps in the middle of the day, I don’t do anything on my bed but, as the doctors recommend, “sleep or sex”. (Hi Mom!) I get at least 7-8 hours a night. I also realized a few years ago that white breads, sugars, and potato knock me out like a narcotic, so I do avoid them when I can.

And all that helps, but I still find that I often cover for myself when I fall asleep in meetings, pretending I’m writing notes in my lap when I feel myself falling and can’t escape. I have arranged parts of my personality so I will stay awake, I have always gotten good “participation points” when really I speak so I don’t sleep. I imagine that my father was the same way.

This all came home to me this week when I was at a week-long work event. During the general sessions, we were in dark rooms for over an hour, so I fell asleep. I can cover for this easily now, the only tell is the closed eyes because over the years I’ve been able to stop head bobbing or becoming slack jawed. A senior manager happened to see that I was asleep and told one (rather insensitive coworker) I was asleep. She answered, “Oh, she does that all the time.” Well, she’s a jerk, but not completely wrong. But it makes me really angry and frustrated. You take me out of my sleep schedule, feed me foods that knock me out, and sit me in a dark room without the opportunity to move or speak, then yes, that’s what you get. I’M not weak, or bored or whatever. YOU just stripped me of all my coping mechanisms. So shut up.

But more than angry, I was thoughtful. All these things I do, all the times I sleep, it’s not normal. Everyone else is able to cope, and I’m not. So I did research, and nothing seemed to fit other than the symptom “Excessive Daytime Sleepiness”. I don’t think I’m really narcoleptic, I don’t snore so sleep apnea is out (also that treatment didn’t help Dad). The one thing I do know is that it’s genetic. I took a sleep scale test I found from a specialist at Stanford, the Epworth Sleepiness Scale. On a scale of 1 to 24, with 7-8 being normal and 10 being “get thee to a sleep center for testing”, I am a 15. Yeesh.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do with this information, but I do know I’m done with people thinking I’m lazy or disrespectful. This really is something I can’t help, and I won’t apologize.

Highs and Lows at the Airport

I’m at the airport today waiting for a flight to Texas. It’s the beginning of another month or so of travel, and while I will miss my home and my friends, I am a little psyched to save on electricity and groceries at least three weeks.

I haven’t been at the airport an hour an already two interesting things happened. The first is that some guy who forgot to take his belt off before he got to the metal detector tried to take it off and put it in with my stuff. If it hadn’t been obvious that he was just a bit stupid, I would have panicked more or made a scene. As it was, as soon as he put it in my plastic bin, I took it right back out and on the conveyor belt. I thought about telling him off though: you can’t pull that shit at the airport! No one wants your heroin-infused belt in their bin. Jerk.

The second thing was pretty awesome. I went to a restaurant to get a quick bite, as I may not get a chance to eat until I get off the plane at 10pm New York time. The lady sitting next to me had this HUGE spinach pizza in front of her, so she turned to me and asked me if I wanted half since she didn’t want it to go to waste. Of course, I said yes. So, she cut it in half, packed her part in a box, and handed me the plate. I ordered iced tea and tipped 100% so the waitress would be okay with this.

A friend of mine always says,”You never know what will happen or who you will meet at the airport.” Usually, my flights are so uneventful this doesn’t apply. Not today!

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Yesterday was tough at work. Not because I don’t love my job, just because there’s a lot to do. After work I had plans, so in the subway I put on the soundtrack to “The Mission” because it always calms me to where I can be social with people. It’s uplifting music and I was feeling good, feeling like we were all interconnected into an awesome mass of human life. Life was beautiful again! That’s when I noticed that a guy I was walking past was peeing into a telephone booth.

Well, for a moment at least I was not appalled by humanity. Moments pass by quickly, and feelings can be fleeting. Such is life.

No Darkness Here

Leonard Cohen is one of my favorite artists. Ever since I heard “Everybody Knows” on that old Christian Slater movie Pump Up the Volume, I’ve been enraptured by his voice. When I started listening to his music more, I fell in love with the poetry. But, the guy is 77 years old! I wasn’t expecting any more music coming from him. Luckily for me and all his other fans, he is coming out with a new album.

Check out the teaser tracks here: Darkness and Show Me The Place. This really shows that life does not end at 70 or any age! The old man has still got it, in spades.

No-fun Gym

For the past year, I have been spending a ton of cash on the gym. I work out with a trainer once a week and while it’s certainly not the largest expenditure on my plate, it’s about the same amount as my car payment. I see the money spent as being valuable for a couple of reasons. One, working out even once a week helps me to be healthy, and the weight training I do is good for preventing osteoporosis in the long term. Two, it allows me to blow off steam. My trainer was funny, I got to joke around a bit and curse my head off and still feel good at the end. And let me be clear to anyone who wants to tell me that I could spend far less on gym membership and just go to the gym: that would be a true waste of money, because I would never go. I have been steadily working out with a trainer. My gym stints do not last very long because I have no accountability.

Sometime in December, my trainer let me know that the gym I frequented went out of business and closed. He got me into a new gym quickly. This gym is much bigger, has more people and looks like it will last awhile. However, they are… very serious. And I am not. I HATE working out. Hate. It. So, I joke to pass the time and that’s how I get around it. But the culture of this gym is eating at my once-hilarious trainer to the point when I do something goofy, or curse loudly, he gets annoyed and tells me to take things more seriously. Suddenly, my workouts are no longer working out.

I had a talk with him after a training session last Wednesday about it. He confirmed for me that he was, in fact, not getting suddenly more mature. (“I haven’t heard a ‘that’s what she said’ joke in weeks!” I railed.) So I told him that he provides two services for me, not just one and his humor was what kept me coming back. Hopefully things will improve, I hope they do! This is the longest I’ve stuck to a plan and was hoping to increase my workouts to twice a week when I got rid of my car.