How hard do you look at yourself. How often do you turn away from that. Sitting alone in bed at night after a celebration that’s ended, wondering what to do with the next hour, that fateful hour when you really have to try to figure something out. Even if you’re not alone in bed, don’t you do it anyway in the middle of the night when you’re awake while the person next to you is asleep, making sounds, uncomfortable, uninteresting, unbearable sounds of slumber, while you stare up at the ceiling, over at the wall. What are you thinking.