I’m not normally a violent person, but sometimes, I want to punch things and people.
I never do, though. Goes back to being “not violent”. I mean, if I had to, like, fight for my life, I could punch things or people. Or if my kids or dog were being threatened, I could see myself taking a swing or three. I’m not really a real life badass, but in my head…? I so totally AM.
That being said, last night, as I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, I wanted to punch things. The longer I lay there awake, the angrier I got. Sleep, that elusive bastard, was nowhere in sight.
I did all the usual tricks that normally take me away to the Land of Nod, but all that happened was… me not sleeping. I tried doing the most boring and lame thing ever, my no-fail thing, counting backwards from 100. I’ve never made it to zero. Last night I did. Twice.
I gave up at one point and wandered down to the living room where I was going to read The Strain (I’m close to the end) and then I remembered that it was the middle of the night, everyone was asleep, and this book scares me in broad daylight so maybe I SHOULDN’T read it. I decided to watch TV instead. Oh, good! I have some episodes of Dexter to catch up on… erm. Hmmm. Maybe not…? Dexter doesn’t scare me, per se, but the premise of the show is suitably creepy, and that might work against the whole sleeping thing. Skip that. So I channel surf, and find a show on ID, only maybe I shouldn’t watch that either because it’s all true crime stuff, and it’s in the middle of the night… and I’m alone out here… and… and… what was that noise?
See, no one was winning. Not even Charlie Sheen was winning. It was an epic no-win kinda night.
I decided that I was definitely tired enough to go to bed and fall asleep. I told myself that it was late, I should be asleep, and I was ready for it. Part of me was rolling my eyes at myself and saying in my head that it wasn’t so because I knew I was lying. I told myself to shut my whore mouth, to leave me alone and stop being so negative.
Shut it. It made total sense last night.
So I headed back to my large, comfy bed where my man was sleeping all unawares that I had even left. I crawled in next to him, slid my sleep mask over my eyes, snuggled into my fluffy pillow and my blankets, got in the perfect sleep position, settled in and…
didn’t. fall. asleep.
Didn’t even DOZE. OFF.
What the fluffer, nutter?
Instead I lay there, totally comfortable and totally willing myself to sleep while my brain was laughing at me and doing cartwheels and going “neener neener neener”, and every time I tried to stop thinking, it would just take off in a new direction. It was a veritable whirlwind of activity. Where was sleep to put a curtail on this maniac?
And then, do you know what happened? I had to move. A perfectly perfect sleep position RUINED because my arm fell asleep before I did and I HAD TO MOVE. That just sucks, man. That just totally sucks.
I tossed and turned, unable to find another perfect position because, you know, that’s how it goes. And meanwhile my brain, having run out of meaningful matter to think about, starts in on the most inane and random things EVER. Things that I don’t even care about! Things I don’t even know why I know them!
I thought about getting up again and maybe reading something else or maybe finding a night-time appropriate show but by this time I was determined to GO TO SLEEP. I was going to lay there ALL NIGHT IF I HAD TO, but I was going to get some bloody sleep if. it. was. the. last. thing. I. did.
Screwing my eyes shut, curled in a tight ball, grimly determined to grab sleep and throttle the ever loving hell out of it when I finally caught it, convinced that I was going to see the light of day behind my closed lids before I saw true slumber, mad as hell…
I woke up five hours later, convinced that I was awake all night although I couldn’t quite explain how five hours had gone by with me all unawares…
It seems that sleep, that conniving ass, snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking and did it’s job anyway.
Next time, sleep. Next time you won’t be so lucky.