So here’s the deal. I have been struggling to write a fun and witty post for about 3 days now. I have had it with moping around the house. Spring has sprung, the sun is shining and I’m sure the internet can back me up with a pithy quote about attitude being half the battle.
They say it takes more energy to frown than it does to smile but after an earnest study in energy consumption my body is convinced the most ideal way of conserving energy is actually through hibernation. Sadly, society does not look kindly upon human hibernation; sloth after all is one of the seven deadly sins.
Even after my internal dialogue has exhausted itself, there is always a loved one or well meaning friend stepping forward telling me to get outside and get some fresh air. Luckily I am too exhausted to snap back that I’ve been telling myself that for days now, granted with a lot less pep and enthusiasm, but still, on a continual loop.
Get up, getting moving, something about moss on a rolling stone and whatever else my weary brain can drag up from the depths of exhaustion as a way of inspiring my body to step up to the plate.
The problem is, my body is in full rebellion. It has been poked and prodded and it is pissed off and not listening to anything anybody has to say. I’ve always been empathic; if you cry, I cry, so when my body screams out that it’s crawling back to bed no matter what, my mind doesn’t put up too much of a battle before sympathetically following suit. The worse part is that hibernation is actually not anything like sleep, not really. Hibernation is all about physiological changes where as sleep is more neurological. In fact animals that emerge from hibernation often show signs of severe sleep deprivation and need a few days of actual sleep to recover. Now we get to the really fun part…and by fun please read the absolute opposite of fun; my brain has decided for whatever reason, to never sleep again. Perhaps it’s because the last time it fell asleep, it woke up on a recovery table minus a few accessories.
It might be that my brain is a bit of a hoarder. No matter how many times I assure it that those pieces had served their purpose and were no longer needed, it remains stubbornly petulant reminding me of my husband and his box of high school sports trophies that he refuses to part with.
Who knows, I’m too tired to further analyze it, but I can tell you that I’ve worked very hard and spent countless hours quietly lulling my brain to sleep, but it always seems to catch itself just short of a completed REM cycle. It’s like I’m a boy at my first high school dance and I just can’t get my date to third base no matter how hard I try.
Truthfully at this stage of the game I’m probably not putting in the effort that I like to think I am. I manage to throw some lavender scented oil at the problem but as for sweet talk, last night I caught myself telling my brain to, “shut up and go to sleep already” which I think lacks the sort of poetry that sweet talking is known for (there might even have been an expletive or two thrown in there, but I didn’t say it out loud so it doesn’t count, right?). Anyway, I’m at the point where I’m ready to start taking something, anything, to help me shut my brain off. I’m sort of uncomfortable with the fact that I have considered introducing drugs to a problem that I just described using a dating metaphor so before there are any charges laid let’s figure out where I’m going with this post shall we.
So I have been trying and FAILING to write something funny (my sense of humour apparently fell asleep ages ago) probably because while I may have started to think of myself as a half decent writer, I’m sure as heck not an actor. Still, I don’t want anyone to think I’m a quitter so I’m open to giving it a try. Besides, if there is one thing people hate more than a quitter, it’s a sluggish, irritable, defeated slob (hey, make up and hair styling is not a requirement of hibernation) so I’m definitely up to throwing myself into a new role, but I haven’t even been given a script! How am I suppose to work under these conditions?
Maybe I just need the motivation of a live audience. I’ve decided to go back to work where I’ve already got my lines memorized and the pace guarantees I won’t have time to sit down and accidently drift into stasis mode. Unfortunately, I ran into my first obstacle pretty early in the game when a co worker responded to my request for a few shifts with a big smile asking, “You’re coming back to work already, does that mean you’re feeling great?” Ideally the question should have been, “does that mean you’re feeling like you can fake it until you make it?” Or at least my imagination could have stepped up to recreated the sentence to make it sound something like that so my brain could then answer enthusiastically, “yes, yes I am.”
Unfortunately my imagination is curled up beside my sense of humour so I’m pretty sure I responded with a blank stare before asking the original question again. This does not bode well for the first customer that counters my memorized description of our vegetable penne with a request to hold the peppers, substitute alfredo sauce and add chicken.
Then again, repeating the description of our vegetarian pasta that is served with peppers and marinara sauce is probably wiser than bursting into tears or collapsing and sighing, “look I just don’t have the energy to deal with your crap today” which is how I’ve been dealing with pretty much every obstacle on the home front. (which means I’m probably no longer a candidate for the mother of the year award).
Fear not, if any of my co workers are reading this, I still have time to catch some Zzzz’s before next week…and besides, if all else fails, there’s always drugs (and there goes my role model of the year award, but whose counting?)
So, sleep tight my little cracTpots,
but either way, I’ll be here, with decaf tea and maybe drugs and if that doesn’t sound like a party I don’t know what does.
When you have insomnia, you’re never really asleep, and you’re never really awake. ~From the movie Fight Club, based on the novel by Chuck Palahniuk