Last night I couldn't sleep. I even felt a little manic. So I took a Benadryl and an extra half an Ativan. The vivid dreams were almost unbearable, though also kind of fascinating. There was a surprise ending to the narrative before I woke up, and it was sort of cool. The thinking and pacing and plot was as complex and suspenseful as The Usual Suspects. Why doesn't this kind of imagination pervade my waking hours? I could be a great scriptwriter.

Anyway, here I am, exhausted and mildly depressed. I don't know where the depression is coming from these days, but whenever I have a public event where I represent PW I get depressed. It just feels overwhelming. Tonight I'm going to be guest bartender at World Cafe LIve (see above) and I worry that I'm not a good enough draw. The insecurities crop up. What if I'm a disappointment?

Additionally, I don't drink at all so I have no idea how to mix drinks. If anyone's coming out to actually get drunk, they'll be very discouraged. They'll have to stay sober enough to tell me how to make the drink. I need a how-to-bartend guide.

Anyhoo, if you're in the area, come on out and I'll give you a Coke. I'm sure I can figure that out.