The Incorrigible Night Owl

January 21, 2005



n : an inability to sleep; chronic sleeplessness

See also: insomnolence, restlessness, sleeplessness, stress, wakefulness, Mary.

Holy cow, y'all. Would I ever like to be asleep right now. I was up this morning at 8:30, after having not gone to sleep until 1 a.m. I was tired as I went about my business for the day. If I had lain down when I was watching t.v. at 7, I'd have dozed off. Trying to be good, I got off the computer and headed for bed at 11. Washed my face, got changed, crawled into bed. Then encountered a slight hold-up, as, suddenly, Robert and I had a million things to yack about right that very minute. Why is this? We'd just spent over two hours sitting, six inches from one another, on the couch and hadn't had a single conversation the entire time. Why? What were we saving it for? Or were our minds so numbed by the season premiere of "The Apprentice" that we totally forgot we had stuff we needed to discuss?

By the time we finished chitchatting and I rolled over to go to sleep it was actually around 11:35. I figured I'd be off to dreamland by a quarter till. But, alas, 12:30 rolled around and there I was, uncomfortable in every position I'd tried and with eyes that wanted to pop open and stare into space. Bugger. Really nothing left to do but get up. I will be terribly glad when this phase passes. It goes in spurts. Weeks or months of sleep difficulties and then, for no apparent reason, the problems go away for an indeterminate amount of time. I'd love to be able to place my finger on what exactly causes this but I really don't know. I could say stress, but, then, I've been continuously stressed for the past six months and was able to sleep well quite a bit of the time. So who knows?

Maybe it's the Chick-Fil-A sandwich I ate today. Not the first one....the second one. No human is meant to consume two Chick-Fil-A sandwiches in one day. That's just not right.

Maybe it's concern for my husband, who will be substitute-teaching at the junior high school tomorrow, the prospect of which is slightly less appealing than the idea of being eaten alive by rabid weasels.

Maybe it's cuteness overload. I stopped in Gymboree today and I can't get the clothes out of my head.

Maybe it's worry over the fact that my GymBucks expire this weekend and I fear I won't be able to come up with enough cash to spend at Gymboree to redeem them all. Because I am pathetic and am unhealthily obsessed with children's clothing.

Maybe it's shame that I'm starting to feel vaguely hungry, because no one who ate as many calories as I ate today should even think about going near food for at least the next 72 hours.

Maybe I'm just bored. Sleep is boring. I don't even have entertaining dreams anymore. The only way I can think of to remedy that is hallucogenic herbs or powders, and I really don't think I want to get into all that at this advanced age.

Maybe it's bitterness left over from not getting any Christmas presents from my husband or kids. I have the promise of a new car stereo/satellite radio unit, but promises don't play Beatles CDs, yo. Not that Christmas is all about presents but a little token of affection isn't totally uncalled for. Dang.

Maybe the fact that I can't sleep is what's keeping me up. I got anxious because I wasn't falling asleep so that made me not fall asleep even more. (You wouldn't believe how often this actually happens to me.)

Maybe I could sit here speculating all night.

Maybe I'll never figure it out.

Maybe I should go try to go to sleep again.

Maybe this time it will work. I'm out.