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MY GUESTBOOK
Glancing over at the clock I note that it�s five forty.  Normally I don�t start my day until six thirty, but I know I�m not going to be getting any sleep anyway, so I got up and went for a run, pushing my body to do a mile more than I was used before going back to my apartment and showering and having what Josh called my �fruity California diet� breakfast but was really granola and fresh fruit, the same thing I�d had for breakfast since I�d met Lisa who was born and raised on Martha�s Vineyard.  Lisa was a health-nut and had instilled some of her less insane eating habits in me.  The relationship didn�t last but the habits did.  Maybe because I had never really felt the need to break them.  I never put too much thought into what I ate, to be perfectly honest, unless I was eating with Josh and Donna because whenever they eat together Donna insists that he eat healthy�his heart was so damage by the shooting at Roslyn that he�s already had about ten years taken off his life and she refuses to let him take ten more off by eating nothing but crap�and I�m not the type of guy to sit across from my best friend and eat a nice juicy steak while he�s dealing with a chicken-Caesar salad with light dressing.

Stanley arrives at my door at eight and I let him in and offer him a drink.  He and I have coffee while he does some preliminary questions, mostly my history, though he has a lot of it from when he interviewed all of Josh�s closest friends and coworkers before meeting with Josh for the first time.

�Okay, I�m going to start off slow, ease you in to all this since it�s your first time in therapy,� Stanley said.

�Okay,� I replied.  I was all for the easing in.  I�d never been the �dive in head first� kind of person.  Anytime I had tried to do things without thinking them through ended very badly.

Stanley asked some cursory get to know you type questions�where I grew up, where I went to school, what my family situation was like�and though I could tell he was filing all my blatantly obvious parental issues away for later reflection, he didn�t comment on anything.  About half an hour later he got down to why we were meeting.

�How long have you been not sleeping?� Stanley asked.

I ignored the slightly awkward phrasing.  �A couple of months.  More so in the last few weeks.�

�Why do you think it�s gotten worse in the last few weeks?�

�I don�t know,� I confessed.  �At first I thought that it was because my mind wasn�t on the campaign, but I�m not so sure that�s the reason anymore.�

�We�ll get back to the campaign shortly,� Stanley promised, �but right now I want to know why you think your insomnia has gotten worse since the campaign ended.�

This was the question that had been bugging me most of all.  I didn�t have an answer for him, or for myself, for that matter.  It just happened one day, last Thursday, to be precise, and, being a lawyer and a man who likes facts to back up what I say and think, it�s been driving me crazy.
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