Page 45

I don't sleep in an orthodox pattern nowadays. I sleep for three hours one night, and then 12 the next. That isn't even an exaggeration. Overall it averages eight hours a night, so I guess that's something, but I don't know if that type of logic applies in concern to health. When I can't sleep, it's either because I can't fall asleep, or because I wake up early.

I was wondering if something in my subconscious was the cause of my troubled sleep, so I've started a dream journal. Two nights ago, I dreamt that I was helping an old friend find his apartment, and in doing so, learned that his real name was Maple Syrup. No help there. Didn't dream at all last night, because I never slept. Worst night so far.

Have you heard the trend of reading the 45th page of the book closest to you to predict your sex life in 2012? I did it. The one closest to me was Frank McCourt's Teacher Man, and the 45th page was pretty detailed on this subject. I'll be with a woman who's out of my league, and who's two-timing me with a professor, which I'll know about, but won't do anything about, because of low self-esteem issues.

There was some controversy over which was closer, though, Teacher Man or Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. Maybe I'll do better with this one.

“Now he could go home and explain to the girl that nothing happened.”

Huh. So now I need to decide whether or no the first one was worse than nothing.

That's weird, though. Is it good literary timing or something, to address this subject on the 45th page? Let's try it some more!

Heart of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad.

Eh... Narrator's just dozing off and hearing bits and pieces of a conversation between an uncle and nephew. They seem to be talking about politics and climate. Wait, my book starts on what's labeled as the third page, so the 45th page would really be the one labeled as 48th. We still have a chance!

...Eh. I can't really tell what's going on here. Something about dead donkeys. I guess if you're into that...

Okay, Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes.

...No, it's just about alcoholism and children dying.

Someplace to be Flying, by Charles de Lint.

...No, some lady is talking about talking to someone, and she's on a computer. Then a guy walks down a street and possibly feeds a dog. Maybe what the lady was talking about talking about was sexual, or maybe she was about to send a saucy email or something, but I think the prophecy needs to work off one page. If you have to read more of the book to get it, it's not legit.

Okay, Green Grass Running Water, by Thomas King.

Oh my goodness. Listen to this:

“First dates, long talks, simple passions, necking, petting, sex, serious conversations, commitment, the brief stops along the line to marriage and beyond.”

Yeah, that's how it starts. And it doesn't get less appropriate. I could quote the entire page. This is a good prophecy book.

If I had selected this one, I would be juggling two men, who were looking for commitment, but me being satisfied just to have sex.

Calling On Dragons by Patricia Wrede. If this one works, it will be pretty disturbing, since it's a children's book.

A cat is beating up a wizard. “Your cat appears to have captured a miniature wizard.” “Jabbed his tail closer to the bush.” “What did you do with his staff?” Yeah, you could kind of make that sound perverted.

Looks like, other than the two books I started with, of the armful of books I randomly took off the bookshelf nearest me, only Green Grass Running Water will make sex life predictions.