I Can't Sleep
I'm losing my memory because I can't sleep at night.
No particular reason I can think of, no urgent driving brainstorm on the brink of breaking that's keeping my mind humming beyond drowse. Just can't sleep.
I lay in bed next to the hub and listen to him breathe, listen to Charlie (the great dane mix) lick himself, and listen to Peter (my feline soul-mate) lurk around with his bell on his collar. This all wouldn't be so much of a problem, as I'm able to drive to work and function (for the most part) during the day, but now it's starting to affect me. I can't remember shit.
I can't remember what exactly I did this weekend outside of the lizard escapade, I can't remember what bills are due and what other menial tasks I need to get done, and, with the exception of what I have written on my hand, what obligations I've got to fill before the day is done.
I've begun carrying a pocket calendar so that I can remember what work schedule I'm working what week, and when my tattoo appointments are, and when my hair cut is, and when the hub and I are getting together with friends. It's a pain in the ass, because I've never had to be this organized just to get through weekly existence. I've always been a list-maker, but usually for things that more or less didn't matter. Now I'm having to lay my clothes out the night before, do things as soon as I think of them, or, as I said before, write myself notes on various body parts.
Scatterbrained?
You might say so. But I have an excuse. My lack of rest is to blame. It's not the whiskey I drank this weekend. It's not the medication. The more tired I am, the less I focus on paying attention; the more tired I am, the less I seem to be sleeping; the less sleep, well, obviously....
Last night the hub was out like a light, as usual. He began his deep sleep, with a bit of a whistle in his nose that quickly started to get on my un-sleeping nerves. I did what any good wife would do--I reached over and pinched his nose shut. I wasn't trying to smother him, I was trying to get him to breathe out of his mouth to avoid the nose-whistle. Only thing is, it made it worse. He only breathed even harder through his nose, which ended up sounding like a freight train in the Appalachian Mountains. I got so tickled by the sound, I tried only clogging up one of his nostrils. Even better! After experimenting with several different techniques, I was nearly peeing the bed I was laughing so hard. Finally I had to roll over, as I didn't want to wake him. Yes, you got that right...he's still sleeping the whole while.
Don't know what time I really went to sleep--last time I looked at the clock it was 12:14. Waking up at 5:45 sucks ass all the time, but after only 5 and a half hours? This shit is killing me.
No particular reason I can think of, no urgent driving brainstorm on the brink of breaking that's keeping my mind humming beyond drowse. Just can't sleep.
I lay in bed next to the hub and listen to him breathe, listen to Charlie (the great dane mix) lick himself, and listen to Peter (my feline soul-mate) lurk around with his bell on his collar. This all wouldn't be so much of a problem, as I'm able to drive to work and function (for the most part) during the day, but now it's starting to affect me. I can't remember shit.
I can't remember what exactly I did this weekend outside of the lizard escapade, I can't remember what bills are due and what other menial tasks I need to get done, and, with the exception of what I have written on my hand, what obligations I've got to fill before the day is done.
I've begun carrying a pocket calendar so that I can remember what work schedule I'm working what week, and when my tattoo appointments are, and when my hair cut is, and when the hub and I are getting together with friends. It's a pain in the ass, because I've never had to be this organized just to get through weekly existence. I've always been a list-maker, but usually for things that more or less didn't matter. Now I'm having to lay my clothes out the night before, do things as soon as I think of them, or, as I said before, write myself notes on various body parts.
Scatterbrained?
You might say so. But I have an excuse. My lack of rest is to blame. It's not the whiskey I drank this weekend. It's not the medication. The more tired I am, the less I focus on paying attention; the more tired I am, the less I seem to be sleeping; the less sleep, well, obviously....
Last night the hub was out like a light, as usual. He began his deep sleep, with a bit of a whistle in his nose that quickly started to get on my un-sleeping nerves. I did what any good wife would do--I reached over and pinched his nose shut. I wasn't trying to smother him, I was trying to get him to breathe out of his mouth to avoid the nose-whistle. Only thing is, it made it worse. He only breathed even harder through his nose, which ended up sounding like a freight train in the Appalachian Mountains. I got so tickled by the sound, I tried only clogging up one of his nostrils. Even better! After experimenting with several different techniques, I was nearly peeing the bed I was laughing so hard. Finally I had to roll over, as I didn't want to wake him. Yes, you got that right...he's still sleeping the whole while.
Don't know what time I really went to sleep--last time I looked at the clock it was 12:14. Waking up at 5:45 sucks ass all the time, but after only 5 and a half hours? This shit is killing me.
posted by Dora Maar at 1:54 PM
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