Caffeine

Considering the severity of my lifelong battle with insomnia, I don’t think it should shock anyone to hear me say that I have a complex relationship with caffeine.  I’ve relied on it pretty heavily during the weeks when I’ve only managed to eek out a few hours of sleep.  It’s been my savior many afternoons when I sit at my desk, fighting the bobblehead after not getting a full night before.

The problem is, after I’ve had quite a bit of caffeine to keep myself awake all day, it continues to keep me up all night.  Or at least, well later than I should be staying up after not sleeping much the night before.   It’s a cycle, you see.  A big nasty gnarly cycle.  And the only way out of it is to suffer.

So after the last couple of weeks of really crappy sleep, I decided it was time to give it up.  Again.  This isn’t the first time, and if after a period of abstinence, I go back to it, it’ll happen again.

So, I haven’t had any caffeine since Saturday.  This week has been hell, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by the folks around me.  Getting out of bed is just brutal.  I have been sleeping, but it’s just this exhaustion that’s been building as the week goes on.  I’m hoping some sort of reboot will be possible this weekend.  I’ve been powering through, though, and I know I’m going to make it.

The thing that puzzles me about all this, though, is the reactions of some co-workers.  “WHY!?!  Why would you do that?”,  ” You can’t do that!”, or “No, you don’t have to give up caffeine; you just have work out, or go to bed earlier, or something.”

Seriously, what’s the big deal about me not having caffeine?  It’s not like I’m asking them to do it.  What difference does it make to them at all?  If anything, it just means there’s more coffee in the pot for them.   But you’d think I had said that I was thinking about giving up my US citizenship or something.

And you can’t be a little bit supportive?  I mean, just a simple, “Dude, that sounds rough, but you can do it!”  I’m really not expecting much, except maybe a little patience.

I really like coffee and Coke Zero, but I can and will live without them.  And it’ll be fine.  I mean, in a couple days, when I’m not a raging asshole, because I’m so fucking tired.  And it’s not going to screw up anyone else’s day if I’m not having it.

Just sayin’.

Why Is It?

Why is it that I only write blogs when I can’t sleep?    Seriously.    And maybe if I just went ahead and wrote more blogs, well, then maybe I’d sleep better.     Like not having written this is what’s the problem to begin with.   I don’t necessarily believe that, because there are plenty of times that I have sat down to do this, and in the process of writing something, it all just sort of opens up more bags of worms, more questions that aren’t going to be answered tonight, and added fuel to the flame of my overactive imagination.

Once again I’ve become a lax blogger, and I’m not even going to try to make some excuse or say that I’m going to turn over a new leaf.   You could be reading this now, and there’s no guarantee that I’ll have anything more to write for another three months.   But who knows, maybe tomorrow…..

But the fact remains, my life is kinda dull right now.  Basically all I had going for me there for quite some time as a source of material was that monstrous crush.    That is thankfully finally behind me.    I mean, don’t get my wrong, I appreciate it for the creative wealth that it was, but at the end of the day, the agony of the thing wasn’t worth it.   A girl can only take so many mixed messages, you know, and there’s only so long that you can hold on to some kind of unreasonable hope.     Thankfully, one day, he did something absolutely maddening to the point of being the most unattractive thing I’ve ever seen, and that was that.     I send him on his way, wish him well, and count my blessings.    (“Yes.  Go, go.   I would not wish you back again.”)

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is ….”NEXT”.    I sort of am ready for something else to be going on in my life.   I want to have some ridiculous thing to write about that hopefully when you read about it will make you unsure of whether to laugh or not.    Some ridiculous sort of thing that I could go on about for a while, work myself into some silly rant about, and at the end of it all, come to the conclusion that I’m “just sayin'”.

Right now, well, I got nothing… well, maybe not nothing, but definitely nothing amusingly anecdotal to unleash in this forum.   All I’ve got is some flashes in my head of where I’d rather be or what I’d rather be doing.    And a whole lot of long hard work, that while boring as shit, I have to admit is deeply satisfying.

So, that’s that, and so I conclude without nearly my regular amount of enthusiasm –

Just sayin’.

Unshockingly Not Sleeping

It’s probably not escaped your attention, if you’ve been here any length of time at all, that I have two problems.   For one thing, I’m a horrific insomniac and spend many days dragging ass as a result of the many nights I toss, turn, post blogs, toss some more, and tear my hair out.    For a second thing, I have by and far the most inconveniently overactive imagination.   When those two traits conspire against me at the same time, well, it can get pretty ugly over here in Whoville.   (Am I the Grinch?  Not yet, but if I don’t sleep soon, you never can tell to what I may resort.)

And so it comes about that I sit here awake, and since I happen to be sporting the Mother of All Crushes Wholly Unbecoming A Woman My Age (MoACWUAWMW), guess what that imagination is doing to me?   I have no reason in the world to suspect that He is going to ask me what I’m doing this weekend, and after I rattle off the list of stuff I have planned, and He notices that I have nothing going on this Friday, He of course asks me to go bowling.    And since this is a figment of my imagination, and not at all anything like reality, I quickly reply “Sure; that sounds fun,” before I truly understand what’s happening, and then I stammer out, “Um, oh, wait, um, is this a date?”    In reality, if this happened to me I would most likely be wondering in my own head what it meant, arguing with myself, and finally deciding to assume that it’s not a date, because nothing that much like a romantic-comedy plot-line would ever actually happen to me.    Of course, then I would proceed to lose lots of sleep over it.    Anyway, I digress, because in my imagination, he laughs at me, and then says, “Yes, of course it’s a date.”

And in my imagination, I respond with a simple “oh good” and then blush deeply.   But not the kind of blush I do in real life, but more like that super-endearing anime princess kind of way.

And, then I giggle of course, and it doesn’t sound like a gerbil being squeezed to death at all, and no one gawks at me or asks me if I’m dying or faking.   (What?  It’s my fantasy.    Give me this one, OK?)

So, all of that seems lovely, doesn’t it?  But not enough to keep me up all night, right?   Well, of course not, but once we’ve agreed to go on a date, then I have to imagine what I would wear, and how I would tame my hair.   And then there’s all the conversations that I can’t stop myself from imagining happening.

Then it occurs to me that the least I could do is get a blog post out of this.   If I’m going to be awake, that is, I might as well be doing something with the fairy-tale in my head, right?  Right?

And maybe, just maybe, if I could just get some sleep, I might not scare the crap out of my Object of Crush looking like a crazy woman with the bags under the eyes and what-not.

Just sayin’.

Keep Me Company?

I’m not sleeping again.   I wish I had some good company for this.   Someone to make popcorn and laugh with about just how tired we are, and yet how unable to actually obtain unconsciousness.   I would write a Craig’s List strictly platonic ad to get this, but man, have you seen those listings?    Some people need to be learned the difference between “strictly platonic” and “casual encounter”.

Strictly platonic means just friends, people.   Not just friends who have sex with one another.   I don’t want to kill any time while I’m not sleeping with sex with a stranger.   I’m cranky.  My eyes are burning.   My throat is sore.     There is nothing sexy happening over here.   Nothing.

Really, the perfect strictly platonic bedfellow that I would like to find would be My Sleep.   I wonder if I can post a personal ad for that.   Something a little bit like this:

Me – single, 32, female.   Exhausted.   Wrapped in layers of warm blankets.    Prone to long-winded late night blogs about everything that ails.    Interests include music, movies, dancing, writing, feminism, and travel.

You – soothing, refreshing, relaxing, revitalizing lack of consciousness with or without vivid imaginary adventures.   Please be swift, effortless, and be able to last eight full hours.

No Snuggling.

OK, yeah, that was pretty lame, but what do you expect?   It’s going on 4 in the morning, and my whole body knows that there is no reason why I should be awake, on the computer, and certainly not writing this blog.

I’m just sayin’.

Sleep Routine – FAIL

I’m continuing to have sleep issues and insomnia, so I decided to make every effort to do everything possible to put myself to sleep last night. I got home from recording before 10.

  • I responded to all the texts in my inbox, and then I switched my phone to vibrate.  I plugged it into the charger away from the bed.  Normally I keep the phone with me through the night so that I can check my email first thing when I wake up, but not last night.
  • I lit candles throughout my apartment, and turned off all the lights.
  • I sprayed lavender and vanilla sheet spray on my bed.
  • I turned on my water fountain with wind chime sound effects.
  • I took a melatonin supplement.
  • I made myself a glass of warm lactose milk.
  • I sat on the couch, in the candle light, sipping my milk, and listening to the sounds of the fountain.
  • I took a really hot candle lit shower.
  • I finished my milk and brushed my teeth.
  • I laid down on the floor of my apartment, and stretched every part of my body while listening to the fountain sounds.
  • I covered the clock in the apartment, so that I wouldn’t stare at it when I couldn’t sleep and stress myself out by watching how late it was getting.
  • I meditated
  • I went to bed around 10:45.
  • I covered my eyes with a lavender filled sleep mask.

And then I laid there.   And I laid there.   And I imagined myself riding on a BART train, since I always fall asleep on BART.  And my entire body felt like numb lead.  My limbs were heavy, and I felt as if I was melting into my bed.

And I was wide awake, and thinking about the fact that I couldn’t sleep.

Eventually I drifted off for a little while, but I didn’t stay asleep.  In fact, the only reason I knew that I had slept at all was that I had been dreaming and I was drooling a little bit.   I kept nodding off and waking up all night.

I got up this morning feeling only slightly more rested then I had the previous nights.

So, if you want to give me some advice as to how I could fall asleep . . . . well, just don’t.    I don’t want to hear it.    I really have made every effort and tried just about 10 different things that are supposed to be “sure fire”.

Tonight, I’m going to pick up the prescription of Lunesta my doctor called in for me.  After band practice, I’m going to take one, and I’m going to get a full nights’ sleep.  Deep, restful, sleepless, druggy sleep.

And I have no problem with that, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Just sayin’.

Awake Again. . . Still

So, my intermittent sleep issues have reared their ugly heads again.   I’m reasonably sure that I can easily trace this evenings troubles back to the source.    

I stayed up quite late last night, talking about everything, which as you know is really nothing.  And nothingness is everything.  

So, I laid down about an hour ago, and I started replaying the conversation, and it’s all swimming around in my head.  And I wondered what the next one is going to be about.  

Then I started worrying about my family.   And, well, that’s totally pointless, isn’t it?

So then I realized that I was hungry, and I was thinking about the bag of avocados I picked up at the grocery yesterday.  They’re on my shelf . . . . taunting me.   

Then I wondered about next Friday’s soccer game, because I’m obsessed with my soccer team right now.   We lose every game, but it’s so much fun running around and sweating like a kid again.  And I was hoping maybe I could convince some more of my friends to come watch me play.

Of course, then I started thinking about coloring my hair fluorescent pink, again.   Trying to imagine what everyone’s reaction to that would be.    

Do you know how much I want to go to England again, but I’m not sure I can afford it, but I’m just going to say “fuck it” and do it anyway.

And I hope that they like the lyrics I started to write, and maybe my bandmates can turn it into something less cheesy than it is right now.

And then I was thinking that I hadn’t written a really good blog in quite some time, because every time I do, I just think they sound whiney.    And I want something that’s just awesomely funny to happen, that’s also not terribly personal, so I can write it up here.

Everything is personal right now, and I start thinking about friends new and old and all the crazy life changing shit that we’re all in the middle of right now.  All of it just swirling around us all, and swallowing us up.  New babies, babies on the way, soccer teams, band drama, weddings to plan, websites to build, places to go, dancing to do, music to make, goals to score or block, and what to write, and will it ever make a difference at all.  

And it’s all just going round and round, and I’m not sleeping, but I’ve got it out a little now, haven’t I?    And maybe when I go back to my bed, it’ll stay here in this blog, and I can pick it up again tomorrow.

And maybe I’ll have a sweet, sweet dream.   And maybe I’ll have some avocado for breakfast.  

Maybe.

Just sayin’.