The Stress of Choice

It's been a long week.

I'm tired. I can't sleep.

I been living with a certain level of anxiety that constantly makes my heart feels like it's racing and about to explode.

And on top of all that, we finally opened Spro Hampden.

Once upon a time, I used to live a different life. One filled with the glamour of the movie business (shah, right) and months spent abroad doing not too much in particular. Today, I've been home for more than four months straight. It's the longest stint at home that I've done in years. Oddly enough, I think it's been by choice. And my friends, who by now are more than used to my lurid, outlandish and downright rude tales seem utterly shocked and dismayed by what I've been telling them lately.

Last night, some friends came to town and wanted to eat tapas. Tapas sounded good, but with the level of anxiety I've been feeling lately, I thought the sangria sounded even better. Pitchers of sangria at the tapas place, more wine at the Spro for a late-night drinking binge and I didn't go to bed until nearly 3am, only to get up at 5:30am. Guess the drinking didn't help.

Like I said, I'm not sleeping much.

Lots more to follow up on about the past week. I'll get to it eventually.