Lying awake

I know that Trump not only causes insomnia but suffers from it as well. His doctor says he sleeps only four or five hours a night. I don’t want to speculate about the cause of his sleep disorder, but I wonder how he whiles away the waking wee hours. I know that for me—a lifelong insomniac—that time is spent critiquing my behavior, both recent and historical. I kick myself for all kinds of things. You’d be surprised what a mean and cowardly bitch I’ve been from time to time, how wrongheaded and hamhanded I can be. And how abjectly sorry I am for all of it.

 Does Trump lie in bed worrying about his failures at friendship and parenting and eldercare? Does he wish he’d shown more love? Does he wish he’d been sterner? Does he wish he’d been more forgiving? Are his dark nights filled with regrets small and large?

 People seem to doubt he’s capable of introspection. And his daylight demeanor supports that doubt. But sometimes I wish I could borrow some of his insouciance and put my past to rest.

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