I feel like I'm being forced to become a workaholic these days. I spend literally every waking hour working on something, in some way or another. On the bus, I find myself getting inspiration for everything from design to a story or poem, and before I know it I'm jotting it down in my Moleskine (lovely thing, that). When out for lunch, something I at times do alone at my favourite chinese restaurant, I'm actually not out for lunch, but rather drawing and sketching and writing while waiting for my food, while consuming my food and while waiting for the bill.
My brain is in a constant "workerdrone" mode (thank you, Intoccabile, for that word) where everything I do, see, hear or smell (rarely, I admit) is transformed into inspiration for one of my many ongoing projects. And perhaps the most alarming thing isn't that this is happening, but rather that I at times find myself /enjoying/ it. That scares me. Really...

The only time I have some peace is when I'm with people. A strange thing, I know. I usually get inspired by conversing with people, but in my current state it has the opposite effect on me; I relax, and my brain pauses the neverending churning of perceived information.

Might this be the reason why I've felt such a strong pull towards the local cafès lately?

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Damn you, insomnic beast
Attacking me when I look
and when I don't
I swear, one of these days
I'll catch you

and your disease