Curse of the Cure

*I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I willed my eyes to close, but like so much else these days, they wouldn't listen. Popped right back open they did. With a sigh, I relented to the buzzing in my head, got up, walked over to my desktop, and switched it on...*

As it so happens, I have an English assignment due "shortly". How "shortly" is not the point. The point is that I require inspiration (from the infamous River I) to get started. Getting this inspiration isn't a problem; the River I and myself are great buddies, we hang out all the time. No, my problem is, quite simply, the time at which my dear friend decides to come calling. This is usually around 1 in the morning, when I'm about to sleep. Not that I always sleep at 1(usually around 0300 these days), but whenever I do, inspiration decides to strike me. Often have I wondered why he (sometimes a she, it varies) chooses to strike me at this oddest of odd hours, and so far I have had no luck.

Until today, that is.

There I was, getting ready to go to bed, when it hit me - every time I and his (or her) suffix (nspiration, that rat) come calling, it's because I'm thinking. And not only am I thinking, I'm thinking the restless thoughts of one who is unable to sleep as early as 1. Small wonder, then, that a hyperactive and restless mind doing nothing should summon inspiration - there's nothing else to do. All I have to do from there is quickly note my ideas down in some form or the other, and pick up on them later. Analyzing what I've done so far, my work would appear to fit this pattern - most of my work has been churned out of my mind while I'm restless and lying awake, staring at the ceiling. This is annoying, and I've come to call it the Curse of the River I - as much as I love creativity and good ideas, I'd like to be able to get to sleep early sometimes. Writing - or typing - down my ideas wakes me up even further, and tends to keep me up even longer.

Yet as fascinating (and annoying) as this is, it's the curative aspect of this practice that interests me - could this be the cure for the dread disease Riterblokitis? If it can be used to treat Riterblokitis, how far can it go? Would it work on the most extreme variant, Riterblokitis [X]? In short, could this be the cursed cure for the scourge of modern Autherians and writers worldwide?

I'm not going so far as to call this a total cure for the bloated and malignant cancer that is Riterblokitis, nor is it a complete substitute to Objectixygen-purified needles of Kritticisium applied to the Ego; nothing ever can be quite as effective as that. But perhaps it can be used to ameliorate this plague, at the very least?

I have yet to complete a comprehensive field study on the effects of the Curse of the River I (CotRI for short) on Riterblokitis in any form, although I have experimented on it to some extent, using myself as a test subject. As mentioned above, there is some degree of empirical evidence to support the efficacy of CotRI as a viable suppressant for Riterblokitis. This post, for example, is a side effect of a dose of CotRI, the progress made on my (overdue, I think - not too sure) English assignment having been the main effect. But like all forms of medicine, CotRI is not without its side effects and pitfalls.

Overdosing on it has been known to initiate a short cycle of sleeplessness-ia, followed by bouts of sleepyness-in-class-itis. While many of us (including myself) already suffer from the latter, OD'ing on CotRI seems to exacerbate the effects to an almost unbearable degree. While some may argue that it's already unbearable enough, there's no sense in asking for more, is there? Or...*cue sotto voce* is there?

And so, ladies, gentlemen, and other genetic aberration, there it is: a way to alleviate your Riterblokitis. Simply go to sleep early and stew, and sooner or later, something's bound to come up. But is it really worth the price? In my opinion...hell yes! After all, who stays awake in class anyway?