Not until my late 20s was I able to sleep an entire night through. These halcyon nights lasted for only a few years, and I’m experiencing jags of light insomnia yet again. Part cat-derived, part climatic incompatibility; if the window isn’t open, I wake up blazing hot and likely with a cat somewhere on my person. Another component is anxiety, but that’s another issue.
Luckily, I have a psychotic need to find the silver lining, the best of a bad situation. Perhaps this even contributes to my anxiety, but, moving right along – insomniac theatre. Concurrent to the sleep disorder, I began delving into the outer limits of cable television – namely, Flix and Encore. A veritable treasure trove of movies from the 70s and 80s I’d never heard of opened in front of me. So many movies I adore (some secretly) came out of this era of my life. When 4AM wasn’t too late to start a movie, when I had nowhere in particular to be the next day. Summers off from college and my itinerant joblessness stoked my obsession on and off for years. And I can still find comfort in the random late night movie. Sometimes they make me reconsider what I want to write – some of what I strive for tonally in my writing can be traced back to some choice insomniac viewings – or reignite what I’ve been putting aside.
But sometimes the epiphanies are much simpler. One of the worst, yet insignificant, nagging feelings is when you look at someone and they look like someone else and then you spend every spare second flipping through your mental rolodex of actors and actual people to find the match. I’m sure there’s an excruciating German portmanteau dedicated to this pursuit.
Anyway, I finally solved two (TWO!) of my longstanding mysteries due to Insomniac Theatre.