Nor'easter ghosts

It's 11:30 at night, I'm listening to spirituals in the form of chorale music while waiting for the melatonin to kick in. In my incredibly comfortable, warm cozy bed setup. Now, which of these things does not make sense? That's right, the melatonin. Why am I taking melatonin you might ask? I understand, I'm having a conversation with an imaginary audience which in general means nobody at all, so I'll cut with the pretense and have a dialogue with myself:

G1: Geof 2, why exactly are you popping the melatonin?
G2: Well, Geof 1, there's a funny story about that. See, I was wracked with insomnia all last week...
G1: I knew that. That's been well-established and in some ways very incredibly not surprising -- Geof can't sleep, maybe Geof drinks too much coffee, maybe he should lay off the nicotine and the caffeine and just let his body do what it's designed to do.
G2: Are you done?
G1: You have to let it shut down every now and then. It's sort of a given. Now I'm done.
G2: Did you save up any energy for the punchline, or is that narcolepsy you're so proposing interfering with your usefulness as a listening partner.
G1: No, I'm really done. And awake. You're not letting me not stay awake.
G2: I'm going to start.
G1: About the alarm clock?
G2: Yes about the alarm clock, you frakking ninny. Of course you know my stories, you're just the vessel of my brain that contains my left ear in its vicinity. Take a pillow. You're more interesting sleeping.
G1: When you let me.
G2: I'm letting you right now.
G1: Right.
G2: Now, as I was saying. I've been known to become so used to my alarm clocks they don't wake me.
G1: And you still buy them.
G2: You're sleeping and not interrupting. Emphasis on the not interrupting. And I buy them -- no words -- because I enjoy being, upon occasion, a functioning member of society.
G1: And yet.
G2: Anymore or I smother you.

So the story is essentially true -- I'd been using the alarm on my cell phone to cajole me out of sleep, which, although useful for the first few months, has now stopped allowing me to wake. Meaning I'm suddenly in the twilight zone of figuring which buttons to depress on the cruise model my parents sent me from a west Indies trip. There's a reason why zombies originate there.

@ @ @

Shit, melatonin is starting to take hold, so this might become a little incoherent. Or it might be to-be-continued. MOst likely the latter.

UPDATE: Today there is sun. The air is still a little crisp and birds are still singing. This weekend was a nor'easter-ish nightmare, what with the wind and the rain and the frightening damp, dank cold. I'd experienced some of these during my time at delaware, but even then my understanding was this was nothing like the cold of the climes farther north. So I got my first taste. I survived, but need a damned scarf.

@ @ @

As for the ghost. You don't get to hear about it. Grand Central is a small microcosm of the world, east and west. Last week was filled with psychological pop rocks of the type that get screened and grabbed at the airport. It's been a rarity.