Presidential politics is keeping me up at night

Call me lazy if you want. You wouldn’t be the first.

But if there is anything I take more seriously than “Star Trek,” it’s naptime.

Just ask my wife. She’ll tell you I have a talent for being able to nod off anytime, anywhere.

Her assessment of my ability to doze at will may (or may not) be an exaggeration, but I acknowledge being opportunistic about sleep. If our big dog Rodney isn’t barking, our cats aren’t demanding food, the kids aren’t home and there’s nothing on my wife’s “honey-do” list, my first thought is to slink off to bed.

I may have a penchant for lethargy, but I come by it honestly. In fact, it’s really a skill honed over years of working as a radio journalist. We are expected to work at all hours of the day and night, so you either learn to sleep when you can or end up bumping into walls like “The Walking Dead” zombies.

And, when you tack on the commute to and from the newsroom in Washington, D.C., all I can say is “stick a fork in me.”

Despite my best efforts to drift off whenever the opportunity presents itself, there are times when events conspire against me.

For instance, I was just climbing into the bed this past Sunday night when my wife informed me of a leak beneath the kitchen sink.

I got up long enough to determine that (a) there was indeed a leak, and (b) it was coming from the garbage disposer. Since there was nothing I could immediately do, I soaked the moisture up as best I could, grabbed a bowl to catch the drip and left the cabinet doors open so the space would dry as fast as possible.

I spent the next day considering whether to replace the disposer myself. Believe it or not, I’ve done it before. Several years ago, I installed the one that had sprung a leak. But on my way to work the overnight shift Monday evening, my altruistic side conveniently got me out of it.

Who am I to deprive someone else the pleasure of a job well done?

Upon arriving in the newsroom, I texted my wife and suggested she get in touch with her plumber friend.

When I got back home the next morning, I was looking forward to going horizontal for as long as possible.

The conditions were perfect. Our dog Rodney was in a quiet mood, the cats seemed well-fed, my wife was at work and the kids were at school.

But my talent for sleeping failed me.

I stared at the ceiling for hours.

I tossed and I turned.

And then my wife called to tell me the plumber was on his way over.

It didn’t take him long to replace our garbage disposer, but getting any sleep after he left was wishful thinking. It wasn’t long before the kids came home from school, my wife arrived back from work, Rodney started barking and the cats started whining to be fed.

Before I knew it, I was back on the road wondering how I was going to stay alert for another overnight shift.

But I needn’t have.

That was the night of the first debate among the 2016 Democratic presidential candidates.

Politics these days is enough to keep anyone awake – even me.

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