I guess this is....insomnia?

Bowie, MD. Local Time = 3:54 a.m.

3:54 is an odd time to be updating my blog, especially for the first time in two months. The fact that I'm doing it from work is also uncommon.

It's been an uncommon kind of night.

The more astute observer might also notice I'm in the midst of the longest homestand of the season. It's been a doozy.

Anyone who has ever lived with me knows that I do not handle being woken up in the middle of the night well. I get upset. When I get upset, my mind starts racing, and then I can't sleep. Which makes me more upset in the morning. Which lends itself to bitchy notes, as I often have to go to work with the perpetrators passed out around my abode.

It became a problem on weekends in Baltimore, so I started staying at my friend Lindsay's house near the stadium on weekends. Then it became a problem on weeknights in Baltimore, so I started staying at Lindsay's place almost every night the team is home.

So I'm staying at my friend Lindsay's house most nights, and she also has an unpaid intern living with her for the summer. Tonight, as I lay sleeping on an air mattress in the living room, the unpaid intern came back from the bar with a pair of other unpaid interns. They were wasted, loud, and insisted on saying hello.

I handled it well.

They started shooting Cuervo, drunk talking and laughing in the next room over, and often calling out to me. I was pleasent, and handled it well.

One of them went home, the other resident put the third intern to bed on the floor, and he went upstairs to talk to the only legal tenant.

After a couple of minutes, I heard the passed out intern spit. Then he spit again. Then he gurgled. He was lying on his back, puking his guts out.

So I fly out of bed, start yelling for the other intern, and I pretty much carry him to the bathroom, with him puking all the way. I then ran upstairs because I do not handle puking well, and thought I was going to do it myself.

Now, by the time I go back downstairs, it's quarter after three. I've been up for over an hour, and at this point I'm wide awake. I'm still handling it well.

I'm sitting on the arm of the sofa debating whether or not I should head to the stadium. I have a WICKED busy day coming up tomorrow (today, in just a few hours actually), and I knew I wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. Suddenly the non-puking intern starts telling me to lie down, to go to bed.

The first time, I tell him don't worry about it, he asks what's wrong, and I say I'm debating going to the stadium.

He then tells me to lie down. To go to sleep. To lie down. Lie down. Just lie down.

That's when I stopped handling it well. I tried brushing it off, but he wouldn't stop. I was just about to lose it when Lindsay called for us to stop fighting.

I tried to drop it. I sat down on the air mattress and started checking my pillow for puke. And then he launched into it again. Lie down, just go to sleep, over and over again. Again, I was just about to lose my shit when Lindsay called for us to stop fighting again.

So I lay down, to get him to stop pestering me, but now I'm fuming. There's no sleep to be had. He went upstairs, I grabbed my shit and I bolted.

And now, here I am, updating my beloved blog for the first time in over two months. Does anyone still check this shit out?

Anyways, I have a couple of other thoughts buzzing around my head:

I wonder what would have happened to the intern if I had NOT been spending the night. Would he have rolled over, managed to puke on the floor, and been all right?

I guess I probably shouldn't have left Lindsay with one wasted intern, and another one passed out on the floor in the hallway next to the bathroom, still covered in his own vomit.

It makes me wonder about a girl I sort of met in Mankato....passed out in the front lawn of our apartment building, and choking on her own puke. Is this a more common occurance than I think it is, or am I just exceptionally lucky?

This has been a brutal homestand. Between Northwest losing my luggage and having to hang out at Dulles (more than an hour away from home) until about 11:15 p.m. (bed time is 11 p.m.) the night before it started, to our coaching staff being all over my ass about the official scorers, to having to pick up a player at 5:45 a.m. on the only day of the stand when I didn't have to be to work by 9 a.m. to tonight.....I just want to get some sleep.

I've slept in my own bed approximately five nights this month, and two of those were for less than six hours.

So now, I'm going to head upstairs and try to grab about four precious hours of sleep, using a vinyl tablecover for a blanket.

I can't help but wonder what life is going to be like someday when I work for the Twins.