(Prometheus is credited with – or blamed for – playing a pivotal role in the early history of mankind.)

So I've taken a second job. And added a shift to my first job. Along with university. Which means I'm busy.

But that doesn't excuse my insomnia which, at this point, is truly unreasonable. Unreasonable!

I'm writing this at 3:10 a.m. after having slept almost one full hour.

This has been going on for a straight week.

My body thinks it has eight hours of rest, but my eyes know.

It makes life, which is already quite surreal, more so.

Walking around my own house at 1:30 this morning I heard my neighbor calling for 'Avery.'

The call sounded close, so I looked out my window. He was standing in my driveway.

I watched and listened to him a while before I heard a distinct meowing from outside another window.

Cristof likened it to two sides of an equation. Without an equal sign, I might add: an equivalent.

Once upon a time I tutored math. I always liked the equivalent. It is still my favorite mathematical sign.

(We helped him find his cat. It included a flashlight attached to a head, a recycling bin, poison ivy, a blanket wrapped around a naked body at the top of the stairs, an open window, a fence, a quiet but well-referenced nod to playing softball, talk of a beer and an actual hot chocolate.)

Today I listened to a man tell a story about Prometheus, a story he seemed to admire.

The story included the option of two plates.

Plate one: an ox's stomach lining covering the most delicious delicacies imaginable

Plate two: a thin layer of the same delicacies covering a bare pile of meatless bones

I didn't hear the rest.

It wasn't my conversation (I was eavesdropping, sort of; eavesdropping on someone I admire, which is worse.). 

One of my favorite moments in life is when you start to lose a conversation that has begun to really interest you but of which you were never really a part. I don't mean in a purely eavesdropped way, though that's an obvious example. I think this happens in life quite often. You hear things that aren't really meant for you, and then you have to decide whether to pursue them past someone else's comfort (because you would be telling them how exposed they had been) strictly to satisfy your own Dionysian, pleasure-based, interest. And at the risk of exposing your own interest too.