Sleepless in Bellingham
Wednesday, June 5, 2019
Being a sensitive, tormented, deep-thinking artistic type who reads too much French existentialism, I’m prone to insomnia. On sleepless nights I fill my journal with angst-ridden observations. I’m usually too tired to write a column the next day, so I just publish excerpts from my journal. Like now.
12:31am: It looks like it’s going to be another night of tossing and turning. I keep thinking about how unfair it was getting kicked out of the Procession of the Species parade last month. They said my attire was inappropriate. I was wearing a Donald Trump costume. I explained that I was following the guidelines and was dressed as a non-human species. They admitted that I had them on a technicality, but threw me out anyway. They said my costume was scaring small children and making women uncomfortable.
1:03am: I should have gone into architecture. Being an architect in Bellingham these days looks easy. You just design an apartment building that takes up most of a city block and looks like a gigantic packing crate with windows. Then you plop it right at the edge of the sidewalk so you don’t have to worry about landscaping. Then you get money for this. Why did I waste my college years studying English literature? Chaucer and Milton haven’t exactly paid off.
1:46am: Now that human composting is coming to Washington state, I think I’ll have myself composted when I kick the bucket. I’ll arrange to be packaged in little bags that say “Mr. Cranky’s Compost—Grow plants with attitude.” Before long cranky flowers will be popping up all over town. This can be my little shot at immortality.
2:07am: I have another great composting idea. State Senator Doug Ericksen has hit his latest new low by going to work as a PR man for Cambodia’s corrupt, murderous dictator, so maybe Doug could now be legally composted. He’s not actually dead yet, but he is thoroughly rotten.
3:01am: I must have drifted off to sleep for a couple of minutes. I had a dream that started rather nicely, until it went bad. I was selected Best Local Celebrity in the Cascadia Weekly’s Best of Bellingham contest. But then I looked at some of the other winners. Applebee’s won as best restaurant, the best hike winner was Bellis Fair mall walking, and the best place for a first date was Hobby Lobby.
3:13am: Oh no, this always happens when I get really tired. I start hallucinating and seeing words in the patch of moonlight on the wall, and then the words start anagramming. Right now the word Cordata has appeared. And now it’s starting to anagram itself. Toad Car. When I was a kid I used to love Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland. Gone are the carefree days of childhood. Now I’m sad. Rad taco. I could really go for a rad taco right now, even a mediocre taco would do, but I’m too tired to get up and make one. Taco Lobo probably isn’t open at this hour. And even if they were they probably wouldn’t deliver one taco. I’m so depressed. Road cat. I’ve never gotten over the time my cat Maxwell dashed out of the house into the road and was run over. Now I’m even more depressed. Ah, relief—the moon just went behind a cloud and the depressing thoughts are fading. But I still want a taco.
4:19am: I fell asleep again for a couple of minutes. I had a good news/bad news dream. The good news: the Bellingham Herald has been sold. Great, I thought, someone is going to rescue this withering enterprise. The bad news: the new owner is Rupert Murdoch.
4:51am: I wish the outside world would leave us alone. Cities and locales in Washington have been winning various Best Places awards for years. The real kiss of death came last month when U.S. News & World Report announced that Washington is the very best state in the nation in which to live. Great. Dandy. Thanks, U.S. News, tell the world, shout it from the rooftops, “Everybody, come on up here, the more the merrier, stack ‘em up, stuff ‘em in. Better yet, everyone head straight to Bellingham. We’ll have a packing crate apartment waiting just for you.”
5:33am: It’s getting so light outside that I’ll never get any sleep now. I guess I’ll get up and make an early breakfast. Tacos sound good.