I want to fall asleep

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.


Free writes

Not what I’m used to

Free write

I kinda feel like I need to say this. I don’t intend this to be so serious all the time. I’m…well, not the best for seriousness, really. And it’s just kind of blank right now. All I know is, my feet are cold, my hands are cold, and I don’t want to move. Moving sucks. Or, at least, from where I am right now, it’s not an attractive proposition. So I won’t. Not for the moment. I can’t ignore typos. But I want some tea. Rooibos, to get rid of this sniffly nose of mine. Allergies. What I need is to go back to allergy shots. So far, my asthma has been less of an issue, which I hope keeps up as spring sets in. Although, all things considered, spring isn’t as bad here as it could be. Let’s see if I still feel that way once the cherry tree outside starts to bloom. More typing, more flowing, just to keep the words going. I don’t know where this is headed, or what I intend to do with it. It’s just chatter, really. So much of the things I’m reading, and I don’t want to be a source of pain. Nor do I want to tap into what is painful to me. It’s too easy to go there, and for the last several years, it never felt like I was more that two footsteps away from it. Why am I thinking of chapstick? No, not the lip balms I make, but Chapstick the brand, especially the ever hard-to-find strawberry flavor? I still don’t understand why it ‘s recommended for wind burned lips, when applying it only reminds you of the word “burn” in “windburn”. Ugh. More typing, more clicking, just because I can. Who knows where else this will begin to go? Reminding me of a dusty construction scene from years ago, when I was not allowed to use the word “dirty”. I haven’t done anything like that in so long. Okay, enough of the free writing. I am dying for some tea.