Sleepless, not in Seattle

Right. Maybe you didn't know that but I'm half Corsican. Now, if you're in France, you know Corsicans have a... dubious reputation, not only for their unfortunate propensity to want to be independant when clearly no nation can live off of ewe milk cheese and cured donkey meat. No, they are also reputed lazy. In fact, they are reputed so lazy that lifting their wrist to check the time while on their siesta is too much of an effort.
That might be true, I'm not judging. But come on now. I'm not that lazy (no, not even half). I love work. Yeah, OK, maybe saying I "love" work kind of blew my cover. But I actually miss work right now, and Canada is just not in any hurry to give me a proper answer, apart from "no worries, we love you, we want you". Maybe you do, but I'd like to see the prenup. That would be proof of your love, people.
The problem is, things are kind of unravelling these days. My sanity is holding by a fraying thread (it was always holding by a thread, so "fraying" at least gives you a sense of progression...), stress has reached levels as yet unseen in people with no professional responsibilities, yesterday was Valentine's Day, and my parents are coming over for the weekend. You get the gist.
So yeah, my insomnia is back. With a vengeance. These days, my usual bedtime hour is around 2 a.m., which is really kinda late and not reasonable by any standards. So last night, true to my new routine, I went to bed around 1:45, turned the lights off around 2:30, and was wide awake again at 3:45. Until 6.
Good news is, that enabled me to finish Ubik. Excellent stuff. Bad news is, there is no way in hell that I can be productive during the day with that kind of sleep pattern.
Also, and I guess that wasn't the point of this post, but maybe I've stumbled upon something, and who would I be to withhold that discovery from the world? Maybe the whole of Corsica isn't actually lazy. Maybe they have an insomnia problem. Maybe there is something wrong with the air (ewe milk or tanning lotion vapors, bomb fumes, what do I know?).
Anyway. Please send help, a masseur, Paulo Coelho books, and chamomile tea. Or drugs.