I am writing this, in bed before midnight for the second night in a row. I have discovered that since turning thirty, I can no longer function as a human on four hours of sleep anymore. The following day is always regrettable. This inevitable discovery has me a little on edge, feeling like Belle singing " I want adventure in the great wide somewhere," but possibly more accurately and simply put, I want to do more awesome stuff. I want to shake myself up a little. It leaves me feeling excited and unsure.