Sunday Scribblings, "Disconnected"

The prompt over at Sunday Scribblings is "Disconnected."
"It is amazing how much I have come to rely on being 'connected!' In honour of the occasion, I'd like to hear your take on being disconnected."
I wrote this piece some time back - and I think it fits the prompt very well.

Freelance
My mind works nights, freelancing for others.
Not every night mind you, just the nights when I don’t need it myself or often it is those nights when sleep will not come. Those insomnia-filled hours when my mind goes blank – not really, though, since it is working somewhere else – and I lay there, numb to the world.
Yeah, I’m OK with the arrangement. What else am I to do? A mind is a terrible thing to waste – ha ha – and, well, my mind has a mind of its own (OK, OK, I’ll stop; either that, or my mind has threatened a migraine).
I have no idea what my mind is up to at night. It doesn’t share, I don’t ask.
Something to do with nightmares, I assume.
Since I can always tell the nights my mind has been freelancing.
Glimmers - bits and pieces really – the horrors of others flicker faint across my waking brain.
And I feel, at long last, fully rested.