Oatmeal. I’m as boring as can be. But I love me a simple nuked bowl of quick oats and some brown sugar in the wee hours if I can’t sleep from stress, upset stomach, whirling brain syndrome, whatever. I get a small spoon, intake my time, I eat the warmth and think the thoughts and listen to the quiet sounds of a concrete apartment overnight and the trains outside.

Then, usually, I’m good. I remember the world is still okay, there’s nothing I need to deal with immediately, and I have a belly full of lovely warm oatmeal telling me it’s sleepytime.