Insomnia = no posting
Posted by Lissa on February 23, 2012
On Monday night I lay me down to sleep around the usual time – 10 PM to 10:30 – and drifted off to the land of dreams.
I was wakened at 2:45 by the sound of a crocodile snarfing down a wildebeast. Or perhaps a lion trying to deep-throat an entire gazelle. Maybe a complete wolfpack going to town on a caribou?
Oh. No, it’s just Rajah mowing through his breakfast.
We have the auto-feeder go off around 2:45 AM so that he can eat and fall back asleep with us. (The days before the feeder began around 4:30 with much pawing off our faces, purrs, headbumps and pleas for food. Our sleep improved immensely once we delegated his meal schedule to a machine.) Usually it works quite well . . . but early Tuesday morning, not so much, because I couldn’t fall back asleep.
I visualized clouds on a blue sky.
I tried to “feel” myself sinking deep into the bed.
I reached out for my iPhone and finished my current book (Lord of the Rings book three, Return of the King).
I lay there with my eyes closed.
Finally, finally, around 5:30 I fell back asleep . . . just in time for my alarm to go off at 5:50.
I hit snooze repeatedly. I forewent my usual morning mug and blogpost. I crawled out of bed at 7:05 just in time to take a shower and hie myself off to work.
Tuesday night I lay down thankfully, relived that my tiredness would make for a full night’s sleep . . .
No, Rajah didn’t wake me. This time I was awake at 2:30 so I could hear the feeder go off and the snarfling commence. The rest played out as before.
Is there anything quite so irritating as when your normally functioning body and its systems suddenly decide, for no possible good reason, to go rogue and disobey your commands?
Slogging through the day, it didn’t help that I’m currently on a Caffeine Cleanse; no chugging of java to keep me going. *sigh*
Last night . . . I turned off the light at 11 PM and I woke up at six. Hooray!!!
The day looks a helluva lot better with some sleep under my belt.
P.S. Parents, I know you’re laughing at me. I know you’ve learned to exist on two hours of sleep and perhaps the occasional nap. It’s all what you’re used to