The middle of the night truly is the loneliest part of the day. It is not often when I find myself awake but on those rare occasions, I am bereft. Sleep calls to me, my body knows it is tired, but a stray thought pulls me into awareness. My brain will groggily hold onto the thought, usually some inane to do item…pick up pickles… but that thought leads me to another, then another.
But wait! Meditate, my brain is now awake enough. Stop. Stop the rambling. Put the thought on the shelf. Roll over, get comfortable. Ahh, sleep.
But no. The pillow is too hot. Flip it over. Speaking of flip, did I change the laundry over? Are there clean socks for the morning? What will we do about the laundry? Will the basement flood again? Who will die next? The thoughts are a freight train of inconsequential, slightly bizarre, slightly frightening worries that come barreling out of the tunnel of my sub-consciousness.
Let it go. Readjust. Breathe in, breathe out, my mantra. Rest. Let sleep pull me in. No! Don’t say sleep! Why am I not asleep? I’m hot. Push the blankets down.
Now the cat is awake and wants to cuddle. Yes, I love you, but go away. Stop poking me. Now I feel bad. Okay, I will pat you for a minute. But my arm is heavy. I can’t keep scratching your ear. Go lie down. I am so tired. What time is it?
Oh good, 3 more hours to sleep. Just get comfortable. Now sleep.
Ugh! Why am I so itchy? Dry skin! Remember to exfoliate in the shower tomorrow. Oh, and don’t forget to call for that appointment. Plus you have to go the market and get pickles. Frig! Forget the pickles, go to sleep!
Relax, sleep is good, you want to sleep. Why can’t I sleep? I can always sleep. It’s him that can’t sleep. Why is he sleeping and I am awake? That is so not fair. He always get it so easy. I always have more to do than him. Look at him, sleeping so soundly. He should be awake if I am. Oh no! Don’t even think about starting to snore. He probably woke me up with his snoring. Just nudge him, he’ll roll over. Of course, he will. He’s sleeping like a baby. He’s probably exhausted. He works so hard. Always doing things to take care of us. He’s the best. I am so lucky. It’s fine, I should probably wake up and make him breakfast more often. Note to self, pick up eggs while you are at the market too.
But for now, sleep. I am so blessed. If only I could get back to sleep.
If I could just get comfortable. Rest… calm… sleep…