Freckled, Irish Pupils, Vampires, and Insomnia

The optician told me my eyes are in really good shape.

"Did you know you have freckles on your eyes?" he asked.

"Cool," I said.

"That means your eyes have sun damage."

Oh. I thought it meant that my Irishness pervaded even my eyes. The doctor went on to tell my that my pupils were unusually large All the better to see you with, heh-heh, and that he didn't even need to perform the usual dilation.

I left with a slight prescription and the doctor's opinion that the $2.00 cheater glasses were working well enough for now.

Later, I wondered about my unusually large pupils. Being an amateur photographer, I knew that my F-stops were allowing in more light.

I am a nocturnal being.

I checked my cuspids but saw no fangs. I am not related to Edward, Barnabas Collins, Nosferatu, or even Dracula. No, I'm afraid the problem is simple and much more common: insomnia. Now this doesn't relate to freckled, big pupils, but I had a rotten night of sleep, so I'm going to travel down this tangent.

Here's a link to ten famous insomniacs and their unusual approaches to the problem. I like entry #2: Amy Lowell, poet: in a hotel, Lowell hired five rooms--one to sleep in, and empty rooms above, below, and on either side, in order to guarantee quiet.

Another website tells me that more women than men suffer from insomnia. They discuss a litany of reasons why. Silly male doctors. Here's the real reason your wife can't get any sleep: She weighs half as much as you do. When she rolls over, you feel nothing. When you roll over, she feels like she's cresting a water bed with no baffle. Also, she does not snore.

In the meantime . . .