It was sweet, for awhile, the sleeping. It was nice. I’m not sure exactly when my bedtime began incrementally ratcheting back to normal, but by the time I got back from Fargo I could actually be in dreamland by 2am, without drugs, even! Yay!

Yup, that was cool. But now it’s over.

O-ver.

And you know what, it’s really fucking up my life. This week, I was supposed to meet an old friend for lunch at 12:30. Does it seem reasonable to you that one would have to take a sleeping pill to ensure that one could set their alarm for NOON and still get a decent night’s sleep? Like, I should probably be asleep by FOUR AM, so I’m gonna take a Unisom right now, at midnight?

Today, I have all this shit to get done, but I didn’t fall asleep until 6 so I couldn’t get up until 11, so now I’ll have to be at work until probably, gosh, ten? Nine, if I slack? Hi, sorry, that blows.

At this rate, I am generally spending half my day in bed. Which sounds nice and all until you factor in that half of that half is spent in a semi-conscious state of terror – waiting – and trying over and over to quiet the mind. It would all be very zen, if I were a zen kind of person, but I tried that schtick before and I’m just NOT FUCKING ZEN. Especially around 5am.