Sleeping has not been an option for me lately. It’s to the point now that I’m pretty sure the universe knows that I’m not sleeping.
Sam: What’s wrong?
Me: I got no sleep last night…again. (fake cry)
TV: Americans are complaining they are not getting enough sleep. Later, we will go over some new tricks to help you get the best nights sleep.
The only problem is that none of these “tricks” work for me. My brain is too busy having a strobe light party to care about any tricks. My brain is smarter than me, if that makes sense.
A typical night consists of me jumping into bed, exhausted from my long day at about 10pm. I start to get comfy and snuggle under the sheets, but then the tossing and turning starts. Not necessarily because I’m uncomfortable, but this is when my brain decides to be up and active. I start feeling like it’s been a while since I tried to fall asleep, constantly shifting and thinking. I click on my phone to check the time, and it’s 1:30am. And I haven’t fallen asleep once. Which means I’ve been up, staring at the ceiling, for 3 1/2 hours. I start regretting the fact that I haven’t taken a sleeping pill that night to help me relax and fall asleep, and at this point it may be too late.
So I continue trying my hardest to think of absolutely nothing. Except my brain has flash moments of homework that needs to be done, and maybe I forgot to turn my space heater off at work and then I will show up and the building will be burnt to a crisp, and I think I left the tomato sauce jar out on the counter and Mumford will get curious and take a lick and then drop dead, and I hope I remembered to clean the litter box out for him to go to the bathroom, and blah blah blah. It’s not working. My brain is a web of mass destruction.
I check my phone again for the time…3:30am. I have to be up in three hours. It’s definitely too late for that sleeping pill.
Mumford starts nibbling on my toes until I punt him off the bed and lock the door. I’m now moody. I know this whole sleeping arrangement thing is not going to happen tonight. But I continue to try anyways. That light in the hallway outside is still bugging me, the way it just shines through my shades, taunting me. Sam sounds fast asleep, snoring and not waking up once. Must be nice.
Check my phone again…5am. Great. I have approximately an hour and a half to get my shit together and have a semi-decent day like a functioning human being.
*Cue the annoying alarm ring tone to let me know I wasted an entire evening when I could have just taken a stupid sleeping pill to solve all of this.
I know taking a sleeping pill every night is not the solution, therefore I avoid it until I absolutely need it. But once it’s hit like, Day 9 of nights like this, it calls for a sleeping pill for just one solid night’s sleep. Otherwise, I’m this:
I’m going to have an extremely loonngggg life ahead of me if I don’t deal with this now. I might just turn into those crazy ladies wearing bathrobes all day at the age of ninety with 18 cats and droopy eyes and smell weird because I haven’t slept in seventy years. At that point, just throw me in a mental institution. I’d be better off.