I’m sitting here trying to think of a subject to write about – but I’m so sleepy I could pretty much nod off at will. I’ve yawned so much my eyes are watering and I’m wondering how I’m going to make it through the day without a nap. In retrospect, staying up late the past few nights was probably not such a great idea.
Neither, apparently, was my recent decision to stop drinking Diet Coke.
I’ve spent the last couple lunch breaks reading a library book. Except that I’m not really reading. I’m doing that head bobbing thing where my eyelids get heavier and heavier making it harder and harder to keep my eyes open.
And then, just before I fall into a deep sleep, my subconscious yells, “YOU CAN’T FALL ASLEEP NOW; YOU HAVE TO BE BACK AT WORK IN TEN MINUTES!” And then my head jerks up and my eyes pop open and I realize that (a) I’m giving myself whiplash, and (b) I have absolutely no clue what the book I’m reading is about.
I’d impose an 8:30 bedtime on myself, but that probably wouldn't work because I'd be wide awake sometime during the middle of the night. Or I could take a nap when I get home, but it seems like there is always some chore that needs to be done. By the time I finally settle down to relax, Vince arrives home and we want to spend some quality time together.
And by the time we finally decide to call it a night and start our teeth brushing, face washing and head-to-toe moisturizing routine, it’s after midnight.
What’s that you say? Since it takes so long to moisturize our old, dry, cracked, lizard-like skin, we should probably start that process immediately upon arriving home for the evening?
Hey, that’s not very nice. “Lizard-like”? Really?
Actually, I think the problem is that we’ve developed some bad sleeping patterns lately. Like waking up multiple times throughout the night. I’d blame Vince – but he reads this blog and he can easily point out the many times I wake him up throughout the night with my restlessness.
Don’t ask me when that happened. I used to sleep like a rock and wouldn’t stir until the alarm went off in the morning. And even then I didn’t always wake up. Hey, give a girl only one good ear to hear out of and she can very conveniently ignore things like alarm clocks.
Lately, though, our rambunctious felines have added to our sleeplessness. They seem to have forgotten every household rule they’ve ever been taught. Like, for instance, Jinx has decided that the lower right quadrant of the bed is the perfect place to snooze. This is precisely where my feet go. And if I move my feet, she pounces on them. So then I move them more. And she pounces more. While she may think it’s marvelous fun, it’s a game that I don’t enjoy all that much because it keeps me from sleeping.
I’ve also noticed that the cats believe their morning feeding time has changed to five o’clock. In. The. Morning. Are they nuts?! To convince me it would simply be easier to get up and feed them, they take turns launching themselves onto the bed and bumping their heads into my face. This, as you might imagine, startles me awake. And then I get annoyed. Plus, then I have cat fur in my mouth and I have to worry about things like fur balls. Ick.
But the cats don’t recognize “annoyance” and they truly believe that I’m going to drag myself out of bed and stumble into the kitchen to dump food in their bowls.
I’d do it to get them out of my face, but I can’t give in to them. Otherwise, they’d be waking me up every three hours throughout the night like a couple of newborns.
And we all know that’s not happening.
We could shut the four-legged creatures out of the room completely by closing the bedroom door. Except that inevitably one of the two-legged creatures in the household has to take a middle-of-the-night potty break. And I can see it now. We’ll forget that the door is closed and we’ll smack into it face first. Since it's hard to accessorize the black eye-and-swollen-nose look, closing the door is not an option.
Hey, I’ve got it! Perhaps we could feed the felines kitty tranquilizers. If they sleep through the night, maybe we will, too.
Or maybe not. Because, as Vince will be happy to tell you, my feet are not moving only because Jinx is pouncing on them. Hunh. Forget the kitty tranquilizers. Maybe we need some Jane tranquilizers?
Yeah, that idea has merit. It might not solve all our problems, but maybe we could get a decent night’s sleep.
It’s either that – or I’m going to bypass the Diet Coke and head straight for the Red Bull. Whiplash ain’t all that much fun.
Besides, my library book is due back at the library in a few days. It’d be nice to get the chance to actually read it.
Better go. It’s time for a...cat nap. (Ooh. Sorry.)