Which is why I was propped in the corner of the kitchen counters so I could rub the skin off previously-toasted hazelnuts at 4 a.m. without falling over. Because what else are you going to do at 4 a.m.? I mean, really. It's not like I had enough brain at that hour to think, "Oh, I'll just work on this story, then," and doing finger exercises on the piano was right out, and if I was too dizzy to sleep, I was too dizzy to deal with hot things, and therefore no baking at 4 a.m. for me.
I did eventually get back to sleep by the expedient of propping two of the (rather large) sofa pillows under my knees so that I could have dreams of being safely strapped in on a malfunctioning space station rather than bouncing around free like I usually am on malfunctioning space stations. This is good to know. Safely strapped in is way better. But if I am frankly not at my best today, you may blame postcognition and vertigo. Dammit.