Sleepless
Sorry. I'm really sorry. It's late. I'm whiney.
I'm crying right now.
It's horribly hard to type and cry. I do it fairly often, though.
I'm crying because I couldn't sleep. Currently, I feel bad for myself. Tomorrow I'm going to wake up and feel miserable. I'm either going to jolt awake at seven or I'm going to sleep until one-thirty when I'll wake up groggy and sweaty. Either way, I will not feel well. The reason I can't sleep is that I am feeling restless, and that is not a terribly pleasant state of mind either.
I can't sleep because my back hurts. Because my bed is very neatly made. Because I was reading a book about a screwed up pregnant woman, and it was so depressing. Because I climb into bed and just start itching everywhere from invisible insect bites. Because I worry a lot about things internet, which keeps me from sleeping far more than I like to admit.
I'm not really crying anymore. My face is sticky and cold, and my throat hurts, but that's all.
It reminds me vaguely of when I was young. Four, five. However old enough I needed to be to climb out of my bed and wander to the top of the stairs. "I can't sleep!" I would shout. "Go try harder! What do you want us to do about it?" the voices from downstairs - quite bored with this nightly routine - would boom. And I would pace a little, frustrated and shivering because I did know, deep down, they couldn't do anything about it.
I don't know where I'm going, can you tell?
Nowadays, I can't sleep but I trundle down the steps instead of hollering from the top of them. Tonight, for the first few sleepless hours, I made trips up and down the stairs. I decided I needed the clean sheets that were in the dryer. I went downstairs and saw a bottle of my favorite, almond scented conditioner, which both pleased me and distracted me. Back up the stairs I went, quite pleased with my find! Until I saw the dirty sheets.
I turned around and trundled back down and up the steps.
I made the bed. I squirmed in the new sheets. I stared at the bottle of conditioner waiting for the next morning. And I announced "I cannot sleep" to myself. Myself said right back "Try harder! There's nothing I can do!" But I was lying to myself!
I did not feel better until I sat down at the screen and whinged at it for a while, and cried at it for a while, and worried at it for a while. I feel better. No more tears, just like baby shampoo. I'm about to fall asleep.
Late at night, I start losing it. But you should be used to this by now.
2000-08-05, A mildly looney / whiney / sleepy entry
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