Every Monday I’ll be sending out a list of the previous week’s Brainfeed entries. It should appear first thing each Monday morning, but your mileage may vary; best laid plans, and all that.
I’ve had damned little luck with my sleep, lately. The CPAP machine, in spite of several adjustments, doesn’t appear to be helping much. The specialist I’m seeing — who looks remarkably like Stanley Tucci, even disconcertingly so — says that my incidence of apnea is reduced somewhat, but not as much as he’d like. Ambien doesn’t do much to help, either, although taking some and indulging in Frank Booth cosplay does quiet my dreams.
The trouble is, I like my dreams, even when they are terror-filled. Too often, the only time I feel alive is when I’m dreaming.
To provide your minimum daily requirement of strange vocabulary, here are a few weird sleep-related words for you: Semisomnia, Somniloquy, Parasomnia.
On Sunday I learned that my old friend Nancy Sutter passed away. The last time we met was in November of 2006, when I was in San Francisco for a conference. It’d been years since we’d seen each other, but when we met in the hotel lobby, it was as if no time had passed at all. She called me a goof (guilty), I teased her about being an older woman (by a few months), and it was as if we’d never been apart.
After that we exchanged email messages, spoke on the phone a few times, and kept waiting for the chance for us to get together again. The chance never came.
Along with being a wonderful woman and a good friend, Nancy was a talented artist with an eye for the unusual. I always admired her willingness to do what felt right to her, without regard for conventional approaches.
Paint the sky for us, Nancy, in the colors only you can see. Perhaps we will learn to see them, too.