Bollocks and poppycock

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I'm trying to make good on my intention to update this thing more often, but it's hard to be motivated to write when you're so exhausted. I'm not sure whether this is just a byproduct of a wonky sleep schedule trying to re-adapt to the 9-to-5 working world, my body being affected by winter's late but vengeful arrival, or continued lingering effects from my exhausting week in Miramichi, but the last five nights or so have fit a certain pattern:

  • get home
  • lie in bed and look at my phone until I nod off
  • wake up (with occasional panic that I've overslept for work before realizing the time on my alarm clock is PM, which is more common now that it's dark when I normally wake up)
  • cook dinner
  • realize it's time I should try to get to bed, but since my nap and late dinner have thrown off my internal clock, I'm not tired, and I watch DVDs until I'm sufficiently tired again
  • head to bed
  • stay awake for another hour because I think too much, or have random snippets of things playing back mentally (latest offender: the Rugrats "I've Lost Control Of My Life" clip redubbed with computer voices speaking flowery language)

Based on when I wake up for work, a 10 p.m. bedtime should be the latest I turn in; it's so hard, though, because years of late nights have hard-wired my internal clock. I was making progress last month (to the point where staying up for SNL on the weekends was becoming more difficult), but I regressed hard during my two-week Christmas vacation. Now that I'm back into a normal schedule from Monday to Friday, I want to see if getting enough sleep will solve my exhaustion problem, or if I need to consider whether it has another underlying cause.

I've been thinking about my future in Halifax lately. Local activist Allison Sparling posted a blog entry about her impending move to Toronto; despite being born and raised here and fighting not only to stay in the city but make it that much better, she conceded that she too would have to join the many other young people that have fled this economically depressed region in order to build their lives. Her post nails a lot of the problems and frustrations I've experienced in this city, and the Maritimes in general. Don't get me wrong, I would love to stay here, but as Sparling notes, it takes a lot of hard work to cobble together a happy life here, to the point that you can't be present because you have to always be planning ahead. Maybe this bit of reflection comes because I need to think about my next step soon, but even if my next job is a stable, well-paying job with good benefits, I wonder what will be left of this city's vibrancy by the time I can fully enjoy it, let alone try to share a life with someone else.