It's nearly 5 AM in Paris, and I have not slept. I have a splitting headache. I just cannot sleep. I should have known something was up when I zipped around my little apartment doing chores upon returning from work at 8:30, rather than collapsing in a heap like I am supposed to. Have I caught up on my sleep and now I am all fucked up?
No, it is stress. The Hour of the Wolf is a phrase I first heard on Babylon 5, and I cannot attribute it beyond that and the 1968 Ingmar Bergman movie by the same name. It's that 3-4 o'clock in the morning time when fears and regrets and worries seize your mind so you can't sleep. Scott Fitzgerald said, that it is the dark night of the soul. In a brief note, Bergman calls this the " Hour of the Wolf," and explains: "It is the hour when most people die, when sleep is deepest, when nightmares are more real. It is the hour when the sleepless are haunted by their deepest fear, when ghosts and demons are most powerful. The Hour of the Wolf is also the hour when most children are born."
So here I am, wide awake, and my mind has been racing for hours. UGH.
I'll give sleep another spin for 30 minutes, and if that does not work, I will make a frozen pizza and wait until I can go to work: the gates do not open until 7.