Sleep Can Wait

Time awake: 28 hours and counting. Another 12 hours to go before my usual bedtime.
Coffee consumed: 4 cups. Black, milk, instant. All of them.
Battery level: 30% physically, 20% mentally.

Maybe it’s the excitement of going to a beach on a weekday all alone, or the anxiety of starting a new job in the coming days, or the anticipation (or sensibility?) of getting a camera I yearned for.

I couldn’t sleep at all. Tossed around, switched beds, tried to wear myself out with printed text. Nothing helped.

Not the first time I’m troubled by insomnia and I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last. Learning to cope with it but as I age, the strain on my mind and body is harder to bear.

I’ve just clocked 6,000 steps at East Coast park. A little shorter in terms of distance, and it took longer than I imagined.

A heavy lunch made my tummy bloated. My expanding waistline wouldn’t thank me for the choice of food – fried chicken briyani and a big cup of bundung.

But it seem like a good reason to continue walking, to rid the excess calories off my system.