The happy place

It’s in the middle of the night, but I can’t sleep.

The problem is with the head. The thoughts in there.

Normally when I can’t sleep it’s related to stress and/or maybe anxiety and/or just that I’m going through some powerful spell of inspiration and think about a bunch of really great ideas which I never write down because I’m trying to sleep and then therefore forget the next day.

Now however, wise as I am from age and experience, I know that sleep at this point is a lost cause. Instead I followed my idea downstairs to the kitchen and grilled a bagel (we do have a sandwich grill).

I have also been wanting to write about the frogs: in autumn once per year or so, when it’s dark and rainy, there are frogs all over the road by the lake. Like thousands of small frogs crossing the road. There are rational reasons for this of course, but it’s never interested me to know exactly why they move, just that they are there.