Insomnia

Cheese. Damned cheese. It's what I have chosen to take the blame for my insomnia. Clearly my post-Christmas evening binges are what have caused my sleeplessness tonight.
That, or possibly the end of the year that is looming. Things left undone, unsaid. Looking back at the year gone by, gazing at the year ahead.
Possibly.
Nah.
A better scapegoat - in fact, not a scapegoat but the real thing:
Aloysius Lilius. Damned Aloysius Lilius. The man who came up with the Gregorian Calendar in 1582. If it weren't for him, these last few days that wind down the year, the ones I am living through as I write, would merely be like any other day...
Or quite possibly, we would come across these last few days within another rigid X-number-of- days-in-a-year system.
Why are we slaves to these numerical systems? We love our traditions and rules yet they suffocate us with their unrelenting dictation of norms and behaviour.
And why does this Gregorian system, on approaching day 360-something, make me reflect on my life, feel guilty, thankful, powerless, scared, excited...?
It's too late at night. My insomnia may be fading after all.
Just blame the cheese.