I haven't slept well these last few nights. I think it's because once you become a writer - I mean really devote yourself to it - the ideas just keep coming. It's like a manic state, wherein you just can't "calm the eff down." Part of me (um...the sleep-deprived part) wishes I could - says the girl who hates to be told to calm down.
Case in point: the other morning, after falling asleep on the couch at 8pm, then retiring to my bed around 10pm and sleeping til 8am, it was still physically difficult to get out of bed. Exhaustion had set in, and I had to get a handle on this insanely amazing, yet annoyingly uncontrollable creativity.
That was a week ago, and I still haven't quite figured out the best solution. I'm starting to not care, though: let the creativity take over. I think maybe such is the life of a writer.