At 43, with 3 years of book visits and 20 years in front of a classroom, you’d think I’d be over it.
But I’m not.
Every time I have a speaking/ book-signing gig, I don’t sleep. It’s always just about 3:00 am when I realize I’m staring at the ceiling. Well, toward the ceiling anyway—without my contacts, I have to take it on faith that there’s a ceiling there. How about if I say this? Yeah, that’ll be perfect. I’ve gotta remember that tomorrow. No wait, I’ll try this joke. I’ve gotta get up right now and write this down. No, I need sleep. I’ll close my eyes and rest. A couple thoughts later, I look at the clock and it’s 4:00.
Wednesday, I’m going to Dover, DE for a middle-school library literacy night with maybe 50 people. And Friday I’m flying to Nebraska for the Norfolk Public Library Literature Festival with closer to 200 people. In high school, the thought of talking in front of 200 people would turn me into a babbling insomniac.
Now, I’m just a pensive insomniac. Sadly, though I’m no longer petrified, I still don’t get to sleep.
I know already that I’ll be awake until Saturday night after the festival. Ironically, I have to get up 3:00 am Sunday to catch my flight home.
Right now, I’ll go run a 5k to exhaust and clear my brain. Then I’ll work on my presentation for the next few hours and then hit the beach with the fam. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll take a nap somewhere along the way.