It was January 2012. After another of a long series of sleepless nights, I decided that 2012 would be The Year I'd deal with my sleep problems. I'd face my life-long insomnia and would give myself a year to find peaceful, beautiful sleep. I wrote that in big in my three-goals list for 2012, between "Live a more creative life" and "Move back to london".
Not much happened, because in spite my short and sweet list I had no idea how to face the sleeplessness that had plagued my life since I was 8.
Then in March, I went to New York. It was a last minute holiday, not planned-ahead. The weather was gorgeously cold and sunny. We worked a lot then walked a lot in the streets of Brooklyn, from trendy brunch-place to cool cafe.
On sunny days, New-Yorkers have that funny lovely habit of putting books they don't want anymore on the stairs leading up to their place. Apparently it even got a name, but I don't remember what it is. There was a pile of books on one of the stairs, so I thought 'oh, I'll just go and have a look if any's good'. On top of the pile was The Book. It was old and used, but the title said "How to solve your sleeping problems"
It was a book for me.
So I opened it. Inside it, there was a letter. It said: "Dear Ann, here is the book you requested. xxx"
My name is Anne. It was a book for ME.
Not much happened, because in spite my short and sweet list I had no idea how to face the sleeplessness that had plagued my life since I was 8.
Then in March, I went to New York. It was a last minute holiday, not planned-ahead. The weather was gorgeously cold and sunny. We worked a lot then walked a lot in the streets of Brooklyn, from trendy brunch-place to cool cafe.
On sunny days, New-Yorkers have that funny lovely habit of putting books they don't want anymore on the stairs leading up to their place. Apparently it even got a name, but I don't remember what it is. There was a pile of books on one of the stairs, so I thought 'oh, I'll just go and have a look if any's good'. On top of the pile was The Book. It was old and used, but the title said "How to solve your sleeping problems"
It was a book for me.
So I opened it. Inside it, there was a letter. It said: "Dear Ann, here is the book you requested. xxx"
My name is Anne. It was a book for ME.
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