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.
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.