My little eyes are at half staff. That’s usually a very clear sign to anyone who knows me well that I’m tired. It’s a pretty day. The clouds are oh so fluffy and inviting outside. You might think this is a free write, but I promise you it’s not.
I think there are different kinds of sleepiness for me. This is the “I’m Likely Going to Stay Like This Until I Give Into This or Force Myself to Get Moving” sleepiness. On the whole, pesty, but with a little effort, easy to shake off. If I want to put in the effort, that is.
Then there’s the “Sleep is Playing With Me” sleepiness, where without warning I can easily find myself having the most vivid dreams out of a few precious seconds of stolen sleep. (No, that’s not right; it’s not stolen sleep if you didn’t mean for it to happen. Whatever, I’m going with it.) When that happens, I feel like I’m bugging out on some kind of hallucinogen, so jarring and lively are my dreams. Funny thing is, those dreams are never anything very elaborate. I hear many voices speaking at once, tons of colors, and simple shapes, like triangles, squares, concentric circles, that sort of thing. It takes several minutes of slapping my face to totally shake that off.
I’ve also experienced “Painful Sleepiness”, where I will allow myself to sleep for a few seconds, and every teeny tiny sound will cause me to wake up like bombs are being dropped outside, jolts, jumps, and all. By the end of it my nerves are usually so jazzed that when I try to sleep in earnest, I need to force myself to stop believing I’m going to be freaked awake again. No fun. Whatsoever.
This morning I was visited by “I’ve Slept For Hours…No I Haven’t” sleepiness. I normally wake up some time around 7, and this morning I was awake at 6. So I did my best to get back to sleep, cuddling in, and managing to sleep. Then I woke, convinced I must have overslept. The clock said, “Only 5 minutes had passed”. So I try for sleep again. And soon I wake, again convinced that I’ve managed to doze the morning away. Which is true. I dozed three more minutes of the morning away. Grr. “Sorry, warm bed,” I apologize as I leave the covers, “dumb body has its clock wrong again.”
And at this very moment my “Get Moving” sleepiness is morphing into “I’m So Tired My Eyes Are Tearing And My Muscles Are Twitching, And If I Don’t Do Something IMMEDIATELY I Will Be A Zombie For The Rest of The Night.” Fine. Rooibos, here I come.
But, on second thought, the idea of being undead is suddenly becoming appealing. Think it’ll get me out of making dinner tonight? Couldn’t hurt to give it a try.