It is with mild displeasure that I am writing this blog at 12:57AM on Saturday morning. Does 12:57AM really count as Saturday morning? Regardless, I'm awake. Despite a full day of cleaning house, running errands, chasing after my insane son (who ate doughnuts for breakfast) I cannot sleep.
Before I begin to rant, let me explain my history with insomnia. It started when I was quite young. I'd sneak out of bed to see what my parents were watching or sneak a couple of toys into my bed. As I got older, I'd sneak books and flashlights into bed, and then, inevitably (for me at least) that turned into sneaking flashlights and notebooks into bed.
This annoyed my parents to no end. During summers when I was in high school, I would stay up late chatting with friends on the internet or would be watching late night tv in bed (the BEST horrible sci fi movies are on late at night or early in the morning).
Upon my arrival in college, I quickly realized that I had to create a rule for myself. If I wasn't asleep by 4:00AM, I didn't go to sleep. That happened often. I had 7:00AM classes and I tended to function better on no sleep than on three hours of sleep.
Fast forward to present day and I still function better at night. My mind races with possibilities and, if I don't keep it in check, it spirals into horrible nightmares and scary scenarios -- usually involving zombies. They say (and don't ask me for names because I don't know who "they" are either) that if you can't fall asleep within twenty minutes, you should get up, do something else, and then try again in another thirty minutes or so. Sure. No problem. Let me just jump on Pinterest. . . . . . .FIVE HOURS LATER I'm back to trying to fall asleep to no avail AND I've wasted five hours on Pinterest.
So typically, if I really can't fall asleep, I try to get up and work -- be it on my personal writing, reviews, or whatever project my husband has me helping him with at that time. But there's one little problem with this, and that is that although my son is an EXCELLENT sleeper (12 hours a night since he was 3 months old -- God bless him) he does go to bed at 7:00PM and therefore is usually up between 7:00 - 8:00AM. And when you've been up writing until the wee hours of the morning, it's quite difficult to chase your son around or have a dance party -- which involves me spinning him around to music (quite exhausting).
The most ridiculous part of this all is that my body is completely wiped. I mean, seriously exhausted. Right now my back is screaming at me to return to my memory foam mattress. So I think, okay, I'll do a few yoga stretches in bed (child's pose) to try to help me sleep. Then I go back to bed and I try some deep breathing, and this, I'm not kidding, is where my mind goes:
"Mmm, yoga. Breathe in. . .two. . .three. . .four. . .Breathe Out. . .two. . .three. . . .what was that pose they were doing in Forgetting Sarah Marshall? Seriously? Forgetting Sarah Marshall? When's the last time you even watched that movie? Okay, but that Dracula musical is pretty funny. . .and I do like Mila Kunis. . .and Hawaii is beautiful. . ."And then my mind proceeds to review the entire plot of Forgetting Sarah Marshall five or six times until I move on to whatever detour it wants to take from there.
Can anyone explain this to me? This is practically torture. If my brain would fixate on something beneficial like Kenneth Branagh's version of Hamlet, or The Mikado, or heck, I'd even prefer to explore the underlying messages in Bubble Guppies or The Octonauts as opposed to reliving Forgetting Sarah Marshall!
So there. I ranted. It's now 1:14AM. I have copy to write for my husband, books to review, and Dakota's story to finish. If only I can. . .keep away. . .from that. . .Pinterest tab. . .