I've fallen victim to consciousness. It's 5:04am on Sunday morning and I'm wide awake! This never happens to me!! I swear, usually my pillows are filled with the strongest active ingredient in Nyquil or something, because the moment my head hits 'em, I'm o u t... but not tonight. or more accurately, not this morning. It's probably a combination of 3 Saturday naps, a 9pm Coke and a 2am dose of Midol, but I don't blame myself. I've found it's much easier to like yourself if you never blame yourself, even for things that are obviously yourself's fault. Denial is key here.
Did you know Midol is nothing but Advil with caffeine? So who voluntarily ingests Midol at 2am? A woman in pain severe enough to wake her from a stage 3 sleep, that's who. In fact, I've often wondered if there were a graphical representation of the pain a woman accumulates over the course of womanhood, how would that compare to the pain a man accumulates in a couple swift kicks to the family jewels? I don't think I'd ever resort to coughing or anything like that, but we both end up in the fetal...... I'm just sayin, probably similar.
So at 3am, to battle my caffeine overdose, I turned on the Tube. I officially despise 3am TV for the diet infomercials and hospital trauma programs. How am I supposed to sleep after I've seen a 17 year old's brain matter protruding from his fractured scull?? Exactly. That's when it clicked - Smartash, you've spent the last 12 hours doing math homework! Make use of this time! Grab your Biology book and be a superstudent! Once I hit emergent properties, something better clicked. Smartash, update your blog. Now that's what I call good use of time, and blogging is definitely more fun, but one must wonder . . . if I kept reading, might I be asleep right now? The world may never know, but I can tell you one thing, I'm getting some good quality time with BearBear.
He's my roommate's cat. He looks more like a cotton ball on steroids with eyes and is about as long as a 3 year old is tall, but I still smile when he comes around. Funny thing is, when my roommate asked if she could get a cat, I had just one-itty-bitty request: short hair. She returned with Bear, a white cat that needs a haircut more often than I do. I actually find myself sprinting to the kitchen on weekday mornings, whipping to and fro to prepare breakfast and sprinting back to my room, all the while dodging any floating Bear-hair that threatens the integrity of my black pants. But again, I still smile when he comes around. Especially at 5:00am.
I can promise you that cats and Midol were not what I had in mind when I started this entry, but sanity isn't really a characteristic of insomnia.
Anyway, I thought for sure I'd get some sleep before my 7:15am alarm, but now it looks like I'm pulling a good old fashion all-nighter, because I couldn't be MORE awake. Maybe I'll be extra ambitious and go for a run at sunrise! Or take a morning bath and cook a big breakfast! Lord knows I'll be hitting the Starbucks before church because this less than restful night will inevitably hit me just as we bow our heads to pray... if I don't get some coffees, my head won't be coming back up... and that just wouldn't be prudent.
It’s the crap, crappiest time! To breathe air!
3 weeks ago