Published August 15, 2008 10:25 am -
Terrell Lester on watching the Olympics
From the comfort and solace of the overstuffed recliner in the corner of the room, I’m thinking that I can relate to those world travelers in the high-dollar seats of the colorful venues at the Beijing Olympics.
Yeah, we have something in common. The haze. The fog. The drearies.
Not to compare the God-fresh air of Rogers County to the woebegone elements that appear via satellite to envelop Beijing, but I’ve been dragging around the last several days. Listless. Drowsy. Addled. Just like I would be if I had to walk around, or bike around, cloudy, smoggy Beijing for a fortnight.
But I didn’t have to fly half-way around the world to suffer thusly. I could feel groggy in the daytime without even leaving my time zone. Or my comfort zone.
Has nothing to do with the weather. No need to call Travis Meyer.
It has to do with Beijing.
I’m not getting enough sleep. Plain and simple.
I’m suffering from Olympics Syndrome. The Beijing Tremors.
Have been since, oh, say, last Friday.
Can’t sleep at night. Olympics fixation. Television addiction. Midnight madness.
The 12-hour time difference between Claremore and Beijing is wreaking havoc with my sleep habits.
I telephoned a specialist. Dr. Goldmedal.
Nothing he could do, he said. Nothing he could prescribe.
He had heard from others around town, others with similar symptoms. Bleary-eyed. Slow-moving. Somnolent.
Insomniacs, I think he called us.