Can't fall asleep, though I've been lying in bed for, what, about two hours now. Trying to avoid continually glancing at the clock, but it's gotta be after two. She tried calling again about ten minutes after I got home, but then gave up, and the phone hasn't rung since. I bet she saw me, and I don't know what to say to her tomorrow if she brings it up.
If she asks me, point blank, I suppose I could deny even being there, but obviously that won't work. How many limping, motorcycle-riding, 6'2" men who look like me could there possibly be in Princeton? Can't tell her I needed advice on a case but figured it out on the ride over, since she knows I don't have a new case. I could claim I just wanted to check up on how she's doing, and once I saw she was fine decided to go back home. A likely story! This is ridiculous. I can't fall asleep and I can't come up with a decent excuse for being there. Maybe honesty really is the best policy in this case. Tell her I was thinking of her and impulsively acted on it, and then thought better of it when I got there. The reasons don't really matter, but she'll want to know them, so I could honestly say that being with her would further complicate our already complicated working relationship and thereby jeopardize patients, so that's why I didn't knock on her door.
I wonder if she's already spoken to Wilson about it. She may have called him after I didn't answer, to see if I'd told him anything about dropping by. Damn – he'll see right through whatever I say, since he's the one who urged me to go over there. He always thinks he's got me figured out, and sometimes he does, but there's a lot I don't let him in on. I try to take what he says with a grain of salt most of the time, but I can't – he may not know me as well as he thinks he does, but he still knows me better than anyone else.
I'm getting myself worked up over nothing. Maybe she didn't see me after all. I need to get some rest. Maybe one more pill would do it, but I don't see the bottle on the nightstand. Must've left it in the bathroom, and I don't feel like getting up. Maybe if I try to read something boring my mind will turn off and I'll doze. At this point I'll take dozing over a good night's sleep, since I never really get a good night's sleep anyway. I think the pile of boring reading just for this purpose is still under the bed. Gee, it's dusty under there. My fingers have found something – feels like medical journals. Gotta find an old one with outdated info that won't stimulate my thinking. A typical activity at two a.m., chez House. I'm so pathetic.