Sleepless in New England

Its not yet 8am on a monday morning, my day off. I can't sleep. I shouldn't have gone to sleep early last night. I'v been awake for an hour now. I was tossing and turning waking up about every 15 minutes for 2 hours before that. Although I do that every morning lately. Lonely, I prefer the company of my dreams, the state of almost unconciousness that sleep allows. I had a dream a few days ago, as I occassionally do, of someone who fell out of my life a few years ago. I miss him a lot, as I usually do after these dreams. It makes me sad to realize that only coincidence will allow us to ever see each other again. I was laying here, hoping I would drift off into sleep again, and looked up, and freddie was sniffing the monitor. And he had the happy look on his face. I thought he would mark it with his cheek, but he didn't. I don't know if he only found himself on the monitor, or maybe he picked up the scent of some of the cats we used to live with. And it made me wonder if he ever misses them. Did he forget his family that he was raised with? And what about the other cats we lived with before we moved here? Does he ever wonder about them, want to see them again? If I come home and have been touching Buttons and Paprika, will he be sad that he didn't see them? He brings me such a high percentage of the happiness that I feel, I hope I make him happy.
I like to read. It gives me an escape. Lately however, I almost prefer not to do the work that reading is. I prefer much more brainless activities, such as tv, computer, and sleep. I'm half way through a good book, and yet, I sit here and wish there was something good on tv, good people in a chat room, or that I could be asleep. Meanwhile, I certainly have plenty of stuff that needs to be done... I just can't seem to get up and do them yet. Life becomes so difficult when theres no motivation to do anything. Breathing itself becomes difficult at times.