I am so fucking tired today.
So fucking tired.
The cause? My inability to sleep these last few nights.
Yeah . . . pretty sure that’s it.
Insomnia is a lifelong and wakeful acquaintance.
A painful and heightened appreciation of the workings of my mind.
In which every thought in my mind flutters and rubs irritatingly against a million other thoughts. Every thought in my mind rubs against a million other thoughts and colors all of those thoughts with bits of moth-wing dust. And then that thought-wing dust changes the thought to which it adheres. And then the newly charged and changed thought begins to beat its wings. Against a million other thoughts. Forever.
It is exhausting, but it does not lead to sleep.
I stare at the ceiling as my mind rages on.
I have known a lot of ceilings quite well.
Mark is snoring.
When I was a kid, I taught myself to interrupt this intimate nighttime frenzy with the alphabet. I would focus all of my energy on drawing out the letters of the alphabet across the screen of my consciousness. Follow the slow strokes of my mind’s pen as it traced the letters’ parts. Slow and heavy and deliberate.
That sometimes worked.
Or I would pick a category (like animals or colors or verbs), and I would go through the alphabet, trying to come up with an animal or a color or a verb for each letter.
The trick was in focusing all of my energy on visualizing the details of the items I picked. C is for Cardinal. I imagined the heft and weight of the bird in my hands, the span of its wings, the gradations of color along the individual feathers, the bones beneath, a shining eye. The hard yellow cone of a beak, the small black mask, a wildly beating heart. The red tufted crown, so regal from a distance and so easily flattened with a fingertip.
And the release. Flight taken.
On to the next letter.
That sometimes worked.
Lately, though? Not so much.
My mind will have its way with me.
And it has been going urgently about its disorganized late-night business despite my pleas for order.
Sigh.
And so today? I am exhausted.
And everything seems impossible. All obstacles insurmountable. And every irritation a mountain to climb.
The only molehills are in the back yard. Literally.
Where Mark sits among them reading a magazine. He is staying out of my way.
He came in a few minutes ago, all shuffling feet and pocketed hands, asking if there was anything he could do for me.
So annoying.
Also? Earlier? He ate corn on the cob in front of me.
And people? That is just one of the most disgusting activities on the face of the earth.
Sigh.
A pause there while I discover that there is, in fact, a more disgusting activity on the face of the earth. Our Labrador, who was sitting politely at my feet as I typed about annoying eating habits? Stood, and left behind several spots of blood.
That’s never good.
Tossed her outside, cleaned the small mess.
And then went out to determine the problem.
And discovered she has a badly swollen anal sac.
That is just as lovely a sight as you might imagine.
She had this problem once before, and it required surgery.
And veterinary surgery, people? Is not cheap.
Nowhere in our budget is there room for dog-butt incisions.
It’s not as swollen as I remember it being last time, so I return to the computer.
Maybe it’s something I can take care of myself, right?
Ugh. Not even.
D is for Dog. Shiny brown fur and beseeching eyes. Wagging tail and friendly bark of greeting. A walnut-sized swelling beneath and to the side of her tail. An abcess. In need of lancing. A required release of unimaginably foul-smelling contents . . . apparently. Not to be undertaken by a non-professional. Not inexpensive. Not convenient. But required. Our dog with shiny brown fur and beseeching eyes.
Off to the vet tomorrow.
And tonight?
I should sleep like a baby.
E is for Elephant.
Wow. I had insomnia, and now I know why. Never in a million years would I have thought to try any of these things listed above. What a fool I have been!
Actually, as soon as I quit my corporate job, I have not had but a dozen sleepless nights or less. Mostly when I’m pissed at my husband and he’s sleeping like a fucking baby next to me and I’m all mad and want to fight and he won’t cause he has to work and I’m still pissed, but he won’t wake up! So I go downstairs and I watch TV so when he gets up in the morning I’m there, still pissed cause I had the whole entire argument all by myself, and guess what he lost. So now I ruin his fucking whole day like he ruined my whole fucking night.
And then I crawl back in bed and sleep till noon.
That’s some pretty bad kharma there isn’t it?
I used to dream of winning the lottery and I would redecorate my entire house. I always seemed to pass out when I got to the kitchen remodel.
:)
Generally, when I can’t sleep? I read or watch TV or mess around on the computer.
Our recent house-guests and the resulting changes in sleeping arrangements made all of these things difficult or impossible.
And so I stared at the ceiling, all crabby.
Being crabby at my husband is not helpful. And Mark? He can fall asleep in the fucking MIDDLE of an argument.
Sigh.
My comment, it disappeared.
:(
It took forever to type. It was too long wasn’t it. Did you block me. Sigh, I do hope you sleep better though.
Dog anal glands. You have my UTMOST sympathy!!
I do not know why some people go to moderation . . . WordPress seems to single certain people out.
You are lucky that way.
But I will always approve you.
Hey! I just went your blog and I do not see the comment I submitted yesterday!
Did it get deleted somehow?
Or not meet with your approval?
Oh, see how the tables turned!
Shit, I’ll have to go look. I probably donked with something I shouldn’t have…
sigh.
Thank you for the kind words and wonderful advice.
My left brain and right brain are still at war with each other.
Like I want to unbutton that top button on my blouse, but it’s been closed up so long my fingers fail me.
It’s raining this morning? Do you see this shit?
Rain…in Oregon, what a surprise. But it’s summer! Damn.
Wow. Not even sure where to start on this one. I am thinking things but can’t seem to get them in order.
Here they are randomly.
Nigel – me likey
Anal glands with abscess – Ewwwwww & no thank you & poor pup
Insomnia – i get mine when i’m stressed at work or home – since i switched jobs 2 months ago it is so much better. Alcohol sometimes makes it worse as does hubs snoring.
I like you. You’re funny.
Thank you for the compliments!
I will accept Nigel’s compliment on his behalf, because honestly?
Without me? He’s nothing.
Snort.
I go through the alphabet and list peoples names. My lab has an anal leakage problem, sooo stinky and not at all something you want on your duvet. Hope Percy’s fissure is fixed! Poor guy.
Teri -
I do the alphabet thing. If I can get my mind to agree to calm down and focus on the mundane task at hand, the alphabet sometimes works.
Sometimes.
And Persie’s butt is all fixed up.
But she remains the most flatulent Labrador in the history of the world.
Ack.