I have sleep troubles. I am either exhausted and have to fight sleep if I want to have a life, or I can't sleep. When I started on Chantix, I had trouble staying awake. For the first few weeks I could nod off into a coma during a pap smear. And I dreamed a lot of dreams. Not the Disney-colored fun dreams, but those nightmares where I would experience at least one of my phobias in full CGI while paralyzed.
Fifteen days ago, I put cigarettes down for good. At that point, I was so traumatized by all the fresh air in my lungs, I can't remember now whether I slept or not. Now, though, I'm nicotine free. (Yay me!) I'm also pretty much sleep free. No matter how tired I get, I sit up at night like a twitchy junkie waiting to rob my sleeping roommate This would be the perfect time for me to foster a colicky two-year old (or teenager with midnight creeping tendencies).
Let me tell you, insomnia is not good for someone like me. I'm already moody, I am manic and highly impulsive, and I have access to the internet. I was just on G+ bitching about the evil nature of Pinterest. Now I'm blogging about this shit. Back in the day, I'd be reduced to counting sheep or re-arranging my closets. These days, there's probably an app for counting sheep and I can't do anything in my closet without pissing off the chick who lives right above me. (This apartment living is a bitch. Walls are so thin, if the neighbors have sex, I want a cigarette after.)
Yeah, I'm in a pissy mood tonight.
You know how when you are sick and can't sleep, you kind of want someone sitting up and checking on you every now and then? (Or is that just me?) Well, if I was sick and not just restless, I'd be dead waiting on my roommate to give a shit. She can sleep like it's an Olympic sport and she's got a title to defend. I've known her for over twenty years and never knew how hard she sleeps. If she's not driving, eating, talking or smoking - she's sleep. And I don't mean she just dozes off - unless "dozing off" means passing out like someone beat the hell out of you with a horse tranquilizer. I'm not sure if she even stays completely awake for sex. I'm going to have to ask her about that.
When I first came to bed tonight, I checked my watch. Just checked again and, after four years, only and hour has gone by.
If I manage to stay sane for another hour and a half, my niece will be getting up in North Carolina. I could call and talk with her for ten minutes before she has to start work. She works from home and in her PJ's, so I might get another ten minutes of sympathy chat before she pretends her boss is on the work phone and she just has to hang up with me...
I suppose I could do some exercises, but I make noise when I exercise. My neighbors might think I'm having sex or something. Worse, since there are no cars in visitor parking, they'll think I'm having solo sex. Damn. Okay, so that rules out exercise.
The only thing left is finding something to watch on TV. Nothing funny though (I laugh like a guffawing goat when I am over-tired), and nothing that involves any kind of cruelty (or I'll be writing "rant" letters to a television network or something), and nothing with even a hint of male-female physical contact (the solo-sex thing again, because when I get tired...), and that leaves... what? "Caillou"?
What the hell. I'm going to go back over to G+ and read happy affirmations that just piss me off.
Someone posted this the other day. It seems fitting for this moment: