Down East 2013 ©
I have never been an all-night sleeper. Ever, even as a kid. I always used to wake up at least once a night. Now that I’m older, though, it’s more like twice, sometimes more.
No big deal. I have my routine. I get up, and eyes half closed, shuffle off to the bathroom, pee, wash my hands and take a sip of water. If my hands are really dry, like they are now, I might put some hand cream on. Did I mention I got Scamp in tow for this whole outing? Every time. He wouldn’t dream of letting me go off on my own!
So me and my “escort” head back to the bedroom where I sit on the edge of the bed and flip my pillows, to fluff ‘em up. (I have one for my head and one I kind of hug and use to support my upper leg if I’m sleeping on my stomach or side.) Then I put some Badger Sleep Balm on my lips, snuggle back in and off I go to La-la Land.
It’s no big deal, as I say, unless of course I make the mistake of thinking. Which might start off harmless enough. Oh, I have to remember to bring my calendar along to book group tomorrow. Just that. Then, before I know it, I’m pondering what I’m going to wear to book group. And that reminds me of Dottie’s brother’s sixtieth birthday party we’re invited to in March. Did I mark that on my calendar? And what am I wearing to that shin-dig? Oh, and there’s the potluck on Sunday, which is bound to be a food challenge in terms of the ol’ WW. God, how many activity points have I racked up this week? Well, I have Zumba tomorrow. That’ll be three more. And….you get the idea.
It’s like friggin’ Pandora’s Box. I open it a crack, all hell breaks loose! Forget sleeping! I’m tossing and turning, trying not to think. By now I’m wide awake. I get up, so’s not to disturb Charlie, and Scamp and me shuffle off to the living room where I catch up on some reading for oh, ‘bout an hour and a half. Then I tip-toe back to bed and sleep like the dead for whatever’s left of the night, ‘til my alarm goes off.
I know people who say, “When I’m havin’ trouble sleeping, I just get up and get things done. I use that middle-of-the-night time to be productive. It’s a gift!”
A gift? Really! You’ve got to be kidding! It’s four in the morning! I want to sleep, not catch up on some light house keeping.
Oh, boy, and going to work after one of those restless nights is cruel and unusual punishment. The whole day feels kind of unreal, as I slog through the hours with a dull headache. Kind of like a hangover without he drinkin’. Whoopee!
Now, you’d think the weekends would be different, right, ‘cause I’d be able to sleep in? Nope. See, I’m middle-aged, so 8:00 AM is about the latest I can manage. But the great thing about the weekend is that I only have to make it to my nap. After that, things sort of reset, and I feel more myself.
And yeah, I know there’s folks who think my napping is what’s robbin’ me of a good night’s sleep. But, listen, I don’t seem to sleep any better on the days when I don’t take a nap. Besides, napping is one of the joys of life, as far as I’m concerned.
So anyhoo, long way of saying, last Friday night was cocker: much thinking, little sleep. I wake up bleary eyed, have my cup of coffee, and make it through Saturday morning, doin’ nothing strenuous; a little vacuuming, quick spiff up of the bathroom. Come the afternoon, though, before I go down for my nap I think, I’ll just throw the towels in the washing machine. So, I go into the bathroom, get the towels and put them in the washer, right? Wrong! Guess I was so tired, I must have spaced out. Next thing I know, I look down and realize I’m putting the towels in the toilet. I kid you not! I had opened the lid of the toilet like it was the washing machine, and was stuffing ‘em in! Luckily, only Scamp saw me do it. He was too polite to say anything, though.
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
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