One thing I hate is my inability to stay wide awake behind the wheel. It was never this way before, but now I can’t seem to go from point A to point B without nodding my head.

It would be 3 in the morning and I’d be on the streets, prowling away with my friend Marie, heading to the bagel shop in Smithtown. We’d stay out for at least three hours, getting home with enough time for us to start our days. I wouldn’t get home until around midnight, and three hours later we would be at it again.

Today, I can’t go from here to the store which is but three blocks away without dozing off, and I’m getting more than my share of sleep.

Ten years ago, me and my friend Karen were able to get in a car and trek 15 hours to Columbia, South Carolina, with no problems. I came back to New York to be at my friend’s wedding, and the solo drive was not a problem for me.

Seven months ago I drove from Tampa, Florida, back to Long Island. I didn’t have any real problems until I was outside of Washington, DC. A 15-minute nap got me to Baltimore, and another 15-minute nap got me to Elizabeth, New Jersey.

Every morning I drive 30 miles to work, and about 9 hours later I’m driving the same 30 back. I found myself nodding to the music the other day, but there was no music playing.

I guess I’m concerned mostly because I’m a driver, and I always have been. I used to drive everyone everywhere, and I never had any problems doing it.

In 1991, I was hanging out with this girl Jennifer, her sister, our friend Laura, and two other kids who I couldn’t name if they were wearing nametags. I named one of them Charlie, and I forget the other girl’s name, so we’ll call her Melissa just for the Hell of it. We drove around Long Island, starting around 10pm, and by morning we were crossing the 59^th street bridge into Manhattan. We didn’t get back to Long Island until around 10pm, where we ended up at the local beach with everyone getting naked and running around like fools. Everyone but me, but that’s because some fisherman would happen to be there and harpoon me, with my luck.

“Ahoy, me gots me a walkin’ whale, me says!”

No thanks.

In 1994, my friend Eddie and I took my Chrysler LeBaron up north to visit his sister at Regis College, somewhere outside of Boston. I was wide awake for the whole trip. Can’t say the same for Eddie, which was a problem since he was the navigator.

From 1996 until around 1998, I spent almost every night with my friends Mandi and Eric, piling in to someone’s car and heading up to Kings Park, usually ending up at the Candlelight (long before it was Christina’s romp) and hung out there until around 7 or 8 in the morning.

So why is it that I’m starting to snore before I even get a chance to buckle up? It’s almost like I should be bringing a pillow and blanket instead of my driver’s license.