Still behind the e-curtain, so no new episodes, but I thought I might try to post something once and a while, just to prove that I am, indeed, still alive.

Although in my current state, I’m not sure that I can really prove that…

I am not well-adapted to the heat. Winters, when I was a child, were 14 months of the year long, came overnight with temperatures immediately dropped down to -20C, and staying that way until spring came a year-and-a-half later.

I am well-suited to that condition: through careful and judicious use of entirely-too-fat foods and a steady regime of sitting-on-my-butt exercise, i am perfectly designed to survive the winter times with no more than a pair of shorts and the occasional lukewarm coffee.

So, when the temperatures rise to what the rest of the world considers “normal”, I get pretty warm. And when it goes above that, either through the application of actual heat or from the psychological trickery involving the alchemy of humidity, I get beyond hot: I get downright miserable.

In that state, I am of no real use to the world. In particular, I can’t summon enough brainpower to work behind a computer while I am apparently subconsciously exerting all of my will to not dissolve into a rather large puddle.

But, this summer I am required to work, both from vague, external obligations pulled along by nearly-invisible but very strong strings attached to my visit, as well as from a personal commitment to find myself substantially ahead of where I started.

This requirement posed a conundrum: I have to work, yet during the day I am unable to work.

Thus, I was left with only one choice: work at night.

Now, please understand: perhaps as part of my winter-survival genetics, or perhaps as a side effect of occasionally my externally-focussed attention getting lost in the bright lights of computer activity (programming, chatting, reading, etc), in either case: I am a night owl. I have very little difficulty in staying up later — and very little capacity to actually respond to to the blaring robotic warnings known as “alarm clocks” the next morning.

However, I would be lying if I suggested that I actually hate mornings. Aside from the waking up, I find them entrancing: the transformation from the slumbering world into the waking one, the beauty of the sky as the first rays of light pierce it, the emergence of bird sounds. These things I love. I’d love them more if they didn’t occur in the morning, when I’m not really awake.

So, the prospect of working at night and sleeping during the day is not anathema; rather, I welcome it. This is not the first time I’ve done this: one summer, while working on contract, I did the same. It works well, except when you have to interface with the regular world on its timeframe, and then it becomes difficult.

I have done this now for almost a month. It has been fruitful, but for one problem: my night owl ability to stay up later and later has also continued. Thus, while I try to go to sleep earlier, it ends up later. Further, I generally have a hard time getting to sleep, which is also mixed in with the night owl nature.

So, I have been getting to sleep later and later, and thus waking up later and later. This causes that occasional problem of interfacing with the real world much more prominent. When I found myself waking up at the point everyone is coming home from work, I realized that this could not continue. I literally could no longer do anything but work, because everything was only open while I slept.

In some places, this might not be an issue. In the place I’ve called home for nearly the last 20 years, I know what’s open at night. Actually, most things are open from the time after work to the night time, but we are also blessed with a 24-hour grocery store, a 24-hour restaurant, several 24-hour gas station/corner stores, and plenty of late-night food joints.

Aside from the occasional tech-support call that I need to make during business hours, I could reasonably live at night. My flatmate demonstrates this, as he works nights.

Where I am now, for the summer, this is not possible.. While the restaurants stay open later — because, in truth, no one eats supper until after 7:30pm — all the shops and all the markets are closed before 5:00pm.

Furthermore, I am here for just over another month and, because I was in a rush, I booked my return flight to leave in the morning. Thus, I’ll need to be awake extra-early in order to be conscious and able to navigate through the airport.

So, today begins my new training: I need to switch back, to not only have a “normal” sleep cycle, but actually have one that gets me up tremendously early. I may be able to do it in a month, I’m not sure..

Why start today? Because I couldn’t sleep, and this is a morning-market day. I love farmer’s markets — I suspect that there is something in my been-poor-forever blood that loves the price, and also likes the plentiful abundance. Because of my sleep schedule, I haven’t been able to get to the market for almost a month.

But the weird part is this: my body’s reaction to being still awake. It comes and goes: some moments I am lucid — as awake as I ever am! — and other moments I feel as though I have lost consciousness, but just haven’t fallen asleep, similar to what happens when you sit on your leg or lay on your hand and cut off circulation, only applied to my mind.

As far as survival mechanisms go, this seem pretty lackluster. Is it merely because my body is so worn out from not being an athlete? Is that why I feel ill, odd, detached, swimming in my own consciousness?

Of course, I can take another cup of coffee, but I find there’s also sometimes an odd reaction to that. It can feel as though it’s on an empty stomach — even thought I did have breakfast.

Is this, perhaps, a stew of chemicals in my body? Is it trying to cope, pouring forth adrenaline or equivalent injections, but caught confused by my currently sedentary state? If it were a sunny day — as it has been for 90% of my time here — then I might go outside, walk for a while. But it is a cloudy, chilly day, and I do not wish to provoke further illness.

This blog post probably has no point. That would likely be another side effect of the sleep loss.

But I thought it might be a little weird.