The Scottish Play.

Yikes.  I’ve quoted from the Scottish Play.

I’m not sure, but I think I’m okay, since I didn’t say it out loud.  I’m going to take the chance, anyway.  Especially since the headline and quote are such a stretch to get me to what I want to talk about:  why writing makes me sleepy?

That’s what I’m wondering this Wednesday.  Writing makes me sleepy, and I don’t understand it.  You could be charitable and say it’s because it’s really hard work, but I don’t think that’s it.  Because, the thing is, it’s the same kind of sleepy that I get doing a crossword puzzle–and that’s just recreation.

Does this happen to any of you?  I write for a while, and regardless of how well it’s going, I start to feel like I want a nap.  My eyelids get heavy.  My brain gets fuzzy.  I want to lie down.  ( guess it doesn’t happen when it’s going really well.  When it’s going really well, you feel like God on maybe the fifth day.  You just want to keep going–whether you ought to do so or not.  (I think this explains giraffes.)  Under ordinary circumstances, however, writing makes me very sleepy.

I have no scientific proof of this, but I’m wondering if the sleep centers in the brain aren’t near the portions that govern language.  Does stimulating the one stimulate the other?  Or is it the other way around?  Are they so far apart that sending all the electrical activity to one area deprives the other of some much needed stimuli?  I guess that would only work if we were talking about the language center and the keep-awake center.  Is there such a thing?

You see what a successful “wondering” this is?  That’s because I have absolutely no basis for forming an opinion.  I can theorize in a complete absence of all data.  This is otherwise known as guessing.  Or “blowing smoke.”

What do you think causes this phenomenon?

Well, you think about it for a while.

I’m going to go take a nap.