Broken Wheels
Repeat to self: my brain has no "nap" function. My brain has no "nap" function.
You would think, after an illustrious decade-plus history of managing to sleep through/fall asleep during Things of Variable Import (like class presentations, work & sex) that I might recognize my brain has precisely TWO settings: Awake & Nearly Narcoleptic Sleep. Although I stay awake far more than I reasonably ought, insomnia is not a concept that touches my life. When I am awake it is because (1) I want to be & (2) I stay away from sleep-making places. Like beds, couches, chairs & floors. If I decide to go to sleep & it takes me longer than five minutes to achieve unconsciousness, that's my insomnia. If my body decides it wants sleep & I rest on any of the sleep-making places, I will pass out no matter what. Those with whom I lived during college might recall my inordinate &, given issues of cleanliness, inexplicable fondness for sleeping on the bathroom floor. Furthermore, once I am asleep there are no known means by which I can be awoken, unless my body allows it.
So you might think that the night before an 8:30 a.m. test, I would know better than to lay down for a nap at 7 p.m. And you, friend, would be wrong. I woke up at 4 a.m. Went downstairs to study. Laid down on the couch to study. (I'm a bright one, eh?) Fell asleep again. Woke up at 6:30. And managed to study, for a whole hour, twenty hours' worth of class material. And we're talking anal insurance shite. Like, [blank] is excluded unless the loss occurs during the full moon and as a direct result of the following: plague of locusts, precipitation of frogs, or rivers flowing with blood, but only if the aforementioned is strictly punishment from God for man's sins. Furthermore, we will not cover [blank] arising from any other directives of God including but not limited to the four horsemen of the apocalypse, floods, or the second coming of Christ. (And, or & only are three of the most important words in an insurance policy.) Well, I'll know in two months whether I passed it.
Then I came home after the test, tried to watch Ocean's Eleven, & fell asleep again. To dreams of 15th century royal court intrigue, going up & down huge expansive white staircases in poofy gowns, faces frozen in soup bowls & people eating them, sexually abusive priests with wheel-mending machines & arguments over faith vs. spirituality.
And I'm still fucking tired.
2 comments:
Did you get a bed? How's that working for you? I am sitting here awaiting the delivery of our new bed. I am quite hopeful that this bed will be the breakthrough I have been looking for as far as being able to sleep through Mark's snoring, tossing, sweating and excessive heat expulsion. Lovely sounding, isn't it?! King-sized pillow-top with advanced technology to keep moi from feeling Mark's most exaggerated movements. According to our salesman Ed, he could flop like a dying carp and I will not feel a thing.
As someone who lived with you in college, at that point in time, sleeping in bathrooms = not too surprising. It's tough to be a college bathroom. Think about it.
Our mutual Seattle-ite friends recently bestowed one upon me which I will use until such time as I can wantonly throw hundreds of dollars at some four-poster goodness.
Once I managed to learn to go upstairs to sleep, my poor back sang odes of joy to me.
Did the salesman actually say "flop like a dying carp"? Priceless. As is the mental imagery of Marklar flopping whilst you calmly sleep on.
Speaking of, I did in fact sleep ALL weekend, & had dreams that were even bigger bowlfuls of crazy, which is why I have been a not-calling-you-back ho bag. But you know I lurve you to bits'n'pieces & will call you soon.
Post a Comment