Katie Schwartz

Before I fluffed and folded my laundry, I decided to shower. By 10AM, it was 96 degrees. I had spent two-hours shvitsing like a hellnine chasing a fast ball. I'm well bonded with this shower. We've been together for two-years. I know she likes to have the hot water knob massaged before introducing cold . I can relate. I'm not a rebel for rebellion sake. It seemed an easy, respectful task. I was happy to oblige. There I stood naked in front of my shower with the hot water pouring out of the head (this sounds like a set up for a dirty joke, but it's not. Really .) and carefully turned on the cold water, so the two could get to know each other on their terms and find a mutually agreeable happy medium (Aquarius enough fah'ya?!). Testing the water with my fingertips, I noted that the hot water wasn't cooling down. I took a new approach and turned the hot water off, hoping the cold water would forcefully pour out of the shower head. Nothing doing. All hot. Hot. Hot. W...

It's August, 2nd, 2008 and I have been doing a lot of thinking. Please, I spend so much time in my head, I blew " oy vey " away 10-years ago and replaced it with " oy gevalt ". Seriously, yo. I'm a brain dwelling freak'o nature, which wouldn't be so terrible if I wasn't a raging insomniac. I haven't really slept properly in about a week. What sleep deprived person do you know has perspective? I've been an irritable snatcharella on wheels. I know it and you know it. Impossible to communicate with in any meaningful fashion. God willing, I'll sleep tonight. Tomorrow, I'll wake up feeling, oh, I don't know, human. I'd love to say, refreshed, but that's a stretch. I have never excelled in the art of sleep. It's never been my sport of choice. I envy those who can hit the pillow and fall hard. My sister is a great sleeper. I wish I had that gene. My ma says she had insomnia in her 30s, too and chalks it up to hormones. ...