Chapter Four

2:20 in the morning and all is well. All could be better. For example, I could be sleeping.

I did some writing tonight. I've completed four chapters of a new novel I'm attempting to write. It's still too new to really talk about in depth, and obviously still a first draft. But I'm pleased with my progress thus far. I've been developing my protagonist, introduced a couple characters and have introduced a conflict. Yes, yes, writing 101. Good for me.

But it's encouraging to keep it up. I'm trying to not just wait for creative impulses, I'm attempting to tap into what I'm pretty sure is there and lying dormant. Getting into a comfort zone and not challenging myself has been bad for my creativity. I used to devote most of my spare time into storytelling and drawing, hours a day.

That pretty much stopped after art school. If you're not meant to be a commercial artist, an art program can kill your drive. Perhaps if I had just leapt into journalism first, I wouldn't have quit for all those years. Many of the classmates I met in in Art Fundamentals pursued their dreams and completed other programs or became commercial artists of some kind. You can't help but question yourself when you're in the minority of those not going for it.

Like I've been saying, though, 2012 is my year. It's the year I'm taking to make creative changes. Just need to keep up my motivation.

Day one

Day one of the new sleep plan. So far? A modest success. I was in bed before midnight, I fell asleep and I woke up at a reasonable hour. I was relatively alert all day, although right now I am sleepy. And Smokey's being cuddly. Try and remain awake through that. Cats actively support napping all day, especially senior cats.

I had this big plan last night, all laid out. I had a vegetarian dinner with no tea, got home and immediately got ready for bed: teeth brushed, faced washed, pyjamas and everything. When sleepiness hit, I'd be so on the ball. I refused to look at my laptop all night and when I got tired, the Dude read aloud to me from Gods Behaving Badly. It's a good book, but I'd read it already so it helped me doze off.

Success. Sleep. But I woke up about half a dozen times and didn't feel fully refreshed. Maybe it'll take a couple weeks for better sleep to catch up with me.

Incidentally, the Dude's subscription of National Geographic arrived yesterday, and in it was a lengthy article about sleep. No one knows why we need it other than that we do. If we try and fight it, sleep wins. And if we don't get it, for some reason we die. Crazy, right? There's a genetic syndrome that you can develop in your 50s that eventually prevents you from sleeping altogether. It's called FFI, fatal familial insomnia. I mean, the word "fatal" is right in the name. That's pretty much right to the point, isn't it?

So I guess my insomnia could be worse. At least it's not that. I've always thought Parkinson's and Alzheimer's were the worst ways to go. "Awaking" to death sounds pretty ass.

Turn on the light

Exhaustion continues. Eight hours of sleep somehow equals grogginess and general lethargy. I'm yawning as I type.

I went to the doctor today for a physical. Interestingly, though, I had lost track of time. I had thought it was well over a year since my last appointment. Nope. 10 months. 10 stupid, inconsequential months and I have to go back in July. Rats.

So I got to see I've gained a couple pounds, am not generally shrinking in height and was told I have low blood pressure, but after waiting an hour for my appointment to begin, it was all for naught. So we discussed my chronic fatigue problem.

No real insightful solutions: Go to bed at the same time, don't allow myself to toss and turn in bed longer than 30 minutes, get up at the same time each day, exercise more, warm milk before bed.

One thing, though, and this will kill me, I'm sure of it. No more tea. No more coffee. Considering what a hell-raising bitch it is to haul my sorry haggard ass out of bed in the morning, I really have no idea how I'm supposed to get up at a regular early hour without it.

I could nap right now. I'm actively fighting a nap right now. I'm like a senior citizen for naps. I could always go for one. The Dude naps. And then he drinks caffeinated drinks all day and night long and then piles into bed and it's lights out. Damn him and the horse he rode in on. It's hard not to be envious.

I'm like an effing vampire. Know when I get my energy? Midnight. Oh yes. And then and only then do I experience the kind of energy and alertness that normal people must experience around noon. It shoots through me and I'm wired (On what? The lack of sunshine and human companionship?) for hours.

Last night I dozed off during an old movie around 11:00. So I went to bed. Seemed like the reasonable thing to do. I fell asleep around 2:00 a.m. I just don't get it.

If this isn't sorted out through conventional means by July, my doctor suggested a sleep study. And frankly, I see it coming down to that. I mean, not only do I have a life-long history of pisspoor sleep, I also get night terrors. Oh yes. I've woken the dude up to kill imaginary spiders about... oh, a dozen times in the last two years?

"WAKE UP! Wake up, spider! Wake up, wake up! Turn on the light!"
"Mrrgh, what? No, there's nothing there. Go back to sleep."
"NO! No! No! There's a spider! Turn on the light, turn on the light!"
"Frggh..."
(Click)
"See? There's nothing."
"Oh... Oh. Okay. Goodnight. Zzzzzzz."
"..."
(Sigh)
(Click)

I get recollections of these night fits the next day and I ask the Dude, "Did I have a night terror last night?" His response, a disgruntled yes. Whatever's wrong with my sleep, I don't think warm milk's going to fix it.

Hoo-ha!

So I managed to get a few people with my last post. Weeee. My work here is done. McPal texted me to make sure it was a joke because he was very excited at the prospect. Sorry, buddy! My uterus is currently unoccupied.

I saw a lot of pregnancy updates on Facebook and an engagement. They were funny in an unintentional way, as they were all lined up on top of each other in my news feed.

I'm in my hometown. Last night I was at a good friend's house and my wacked out sleeping schedule managed to keep her up to all hours of the night. She was a good sport. I really hit a huge burst of energy at 2:00 a.m. I think it was around 3:30 when we went to bed. Really looking forward to getting this BS fatigue/sleeping issue looked into with my doctor.

Tomorrow is the 1-year-old birthday party of my cousin's kid. I bought a dress at Baby Gap. I do love shopping there for other people's kids because it's an excuse to be frivolous. I mean, it's not my child. I can waste money on something she'll grow out of in no time if I want to. And it's cute!

I feel off and out of sorts. And as such, I have little of value to say. So I'm going to try to sleep, on the off chance this strange new feeling is sleepiness at a reasonable hour.

Siesta

I am a vibrant, energetic young woman. Seriously, I've been tired for so long I don't remember what it's like not to be tired. I get enough sleep each night, about eight hours. I'm eating better than I ever have in my life. Fruits and vegetables were not a major component in my childhood, but they are now. I get my weekly exercise via dance class and wherever I go, I do plenty of walking. There are no personal vehicles in my life. My weight is normal.

So what the hell? I'm exhausted. I feel like I need a nap. I feel foggy. Yesterday, for example, I got up after a full night's rest, had a shower and drank a tea. I still needed a nap before I went out after work. I was just too tired. I find it hard to wake up in the morning.

Maybe I need more fresh air? Maybe I'm lacking in certain vitamins? Maybe I'm missing something?

So I called the doctor for an appointment. They were going to see me in a few days, but then I realized I was due for a physical and I didn't want to have to make two trips. And then I wanted it on my day off because I don't like rushing around with my work to make appointments if I don't have to, particularly since I've been needing naps. So I have to wait a month.

Man, I could go for a nap right about now.

My cousin sent out her destination wedding info, so now the saving and paying can start. $1,500 a piece to go to Mexico. Is this what the Dude and I really should be spending our money on? Probably not. But we're doing it anyway. We've never travelled together. Funny thing, I've gone on tropical vacations with two other boyfriends in the past, and within months of those trips we've broken up. And on those trips there were beefs about how to spend the time.

I think the Dude and I would be fine, as we're happy and comfortable leaving each other alone, doing our own thing, and don't need an activity together to enjoy each others company. I could see him wandering about on side trips to take photos while I lounge by the pool with a drink and a book.

I wouldn't mind being tired in Mexico. Then my napping would be called a siesta.

Large and small matters

Somehow I haven't been able to keep very good track of the days. I only realized it was Thursday after work, and then forgot again. I sat here for a minute trying to figure out on my own what day it was. How does this happen? I blame vacation days still wonking with my internal clock, and apparently my internal calendar as well.

My insomnia is easing up a bit. To further combat my sleeplessness, I bought Gravol, wax earplugs and lavandar bubble bath. The TV is off. The lights are dimmed. I'm writing out my mind. This should do it. And if not, I throw myself into traffic.

No, no. But I'll think about throwing myself into traffic.

There's going to be anti-prorogue rallies all over the country on Jan. 23. It's really important that all Canadians know about this. It's not a small matter. It is in fact a protest against tyranny and a slow slope into dictatorship.

I posted this link on my Facebook, though I doubt many if any read it. It wasn't a YouTube video or an LOLcat (fun and delightful as those things may be). It easily and quickly explains from the text of a Canadian constitutional expert why Harper's proroguing parliament means grave danger to Canadian democracy. If any Canadians are reading this, I urge you to click the link, take the five minutes and educate yourselves on this matter. It's an anti-partisan factual explanation of our system and outlines how it's being abused.

One final train of thought, Smokey has been meowing incessantly. Well, not quite incessantly, but over and over and over again for long periods of time. Even when he's been fed, even when he has fresh water, even when he's been given attention. Maybe he still misses Jerry. I'm not sure. But it's making me crazy.

Four Hours

I'm battling some insomnia. I've mentioned this before. It's been a lifelong affliction. It comes and goes and when it goes, I forget I ever had a problem. But when it returns, I then recall all the eras of my life I just could not get my sorry ass to sleep.

I'm getting about four hours a night. I'm doing my best not to nap, so I'll be tied at night. But then something strange happens to me around 11:30 or so. I get this amazing second wind and I feel like staying up is very, very important. I don't intellectually agree, but a deep-seeded urge to stay up takes over. Then around 2:00 I want to sleep. Sometime around 4:00 I get there, sometimes later.

It's quite literally exhausting.

Over time the things I've discovered that will help me sleep have always changed. Sometimes it was another person in the room for comfort. Then it was being alone to have total silence. The door open. The door closed. Total darkness. A light on from the bathroom. Music playing. A fan blowing. A glass of milk. No fluids for hours before bed. Watching a subtitled movie. Not watching anything.

The formula for falling sleep is as elusive and ever-changing for me as how to stimulate the clitoris is for the average teenage boy.

Bloody hell on a stick.

La fatigue

My kingdom for regular, normal sleeping patterns. I envy people who can fall asleep simply by resting their head down on a pillow. I've never had that ability. I wish I did. It's almost 2:00 a.m. now and I'm tired, but not sleepy.

The Dude is asleep beside me on the couch, Smokey is likewise in dreamland and I'm on the internet. I think my natural rhythms are funky. Back in college I had a summer job that had me up at 6:00 a.m. I was a chamber maid and the days were arduous and unforgiving (and gross). I'd be hopelessly exhausted by the end of my shift. I'd still go to bed at 11:30 or so. And once the job was over, I reverted to my 1:00 a.m. or later bedtime within days.

When I first started my job I worked the evening shift for three months, 4:00 to 12:00. I'd get home around half past midnight and stay up till 4:00, sleep in till noon and essentially live in a social-free fog where the only benefit was always being well rested.

I need to work on Tuesday. How I'm going to shock my body awake for my shift, which takes place at a decent hour, 8:00, is a concern. I'm thinking mega cups of Joe. Like, epic coffee consumption. Maybe I could induce a sugar/caffeine crash to coincide with midnight tomorrow. Maybe I'm screwed and my first day back is going to be utter ass.

Blargh.

Perhaps I'll throw on a subtitled movie. Those tend to knock me out late at night.

Sigh. Le sigh.

Insomnia

I seem to be experiencing a small bout of insomnia. I've had coffee, and some amount of function is creeping in. I suppose I have too much on my mind. I don't have the fastest paced life, nor do I have too many responsibilities. But it's always so interesting that despite the relative ease of my life, there is always room inside of me for some inner conflict.

I'm ready as I'm going to be to face the day. Having not gotten any sleep, I feel disjointed a little from reality. I suppose the upside to this is that tonight I ought to sleep like a log. That's the hidden bonus to a poor night's rest: amazing sleep the night after.

When I was in high school I used to sleep during class. I fell asleep in every class I ever had, including gym. I was a champ. My reputation preceded me with my teachers, who'd tell me to wake up, even if I hadn't dozed off yet in their class. I had big things going on in my life, keeping me awake at all hours.

It's been a long time since I've had such a decidedly sleepless night. I can't remember how long. Now I have to work.

Are you afraid of the dark?

Something I've never been able to grow out of is my need to stay up as late as possible, even if it's to my detriment. Getting up at 7:00 am? Going to bed before 1:00 would be a sacrifice, but I could try. After all, I gotta be responsible.

It's about seven minutes to 2:00 am to be exact and I'm still up (not typing in my sleep or anything. Dear me, no.) I have every reason in the world to get some shut eye, and yet here I am. The cats, I can tell, want me to go to bed. They sleep with me at night, and they're both bookending me, getting all in my business.

Here's the thing, though. I'm kinda sorta afraid of the dark and stuff. The Dude is in London (Ontario, not England) with his brother and brother's family. I'm going in the morning, where we'll be doing ye olde Thanksgiving dinner. He went a day early because he could. I've enjoyed having the place to myself to do such wild things as eat leftovers, wash the dishes and read my book. But I'm not looking forward to sleeping alone here for the first time.

I've never been a fan of that, really. As a kid I hated being alone in the dark in my own room. I didn't like it as a teenager, I didn't like it when I lived alone, I didn't like it nights away from whatever boyfriend I had, I didn't like it between boyfriends and I don't much care for it now.

Lucky for me, the Dude only makes these sort of jaunts once in awhile. They're planned in advance and I always know how long I have to suck it up.

You'd think being an adult, I would be able to just get over these silly feelings. It would be so sensible and orderly of me to go to bed at 11:00, and I do love me some sensible and orderly behaviour. I really do.

Well, it's 2:02 am now. I suppose I ought to scoop up Smokey and drag my sorry ass (and his) into bed. Having him there with me will actually be a comfort. No one is alone who has a cat. Or a small dog. Or a larger dog that doesn't hog the bed. Or a parrot that keeps you company during the day, but knows its place and lets you get some sleep. But not fish. They're not much for companionship, not with you. They just don't give a damn.

Goodnight.