It’s the thorn in my side. The Moby D to my Captain Ahab. The unholy half hour.

Almost there, you wicked thing, you.
Almost there, you wicked thing, you.

Unfailingly, whether I’m distressed or experiencing the sporadic insomnia that enjoys visiting me or waking up from a rhymes with sightmare (I don’t even utter the word, ya’ll; my dreams are crucial), 3:30 is the time when it all happens. Typically, my eyes fly open, I orient myself, turn the channel to Golden Girls, and then lie there, vainly hoping for a quick turnaround back to sleep. It happened early this morning, and I have no delusions that it won’t happen again. (Briefly, there is something on my mind. I won’t get into it, but note that I’ll be slightly bitter for the next few months. You’ve been warned…)

I have no idea why 3:30 beckons my restless mind to restart. I could link to articles about circadian rhythms and all that, but you already know about that stuff. I will say that drenching my pillows and sheets with a lavender spray helps. Eventually. Yes, my brain manages to even resist the calming ways of lavender and holds sleep off until around 5am, which gives me an hour to sleep before I have to wake up for work. Sigh. Siiiiigh.

Do you experience this, party people? If so, what do you do about it? And if so, should we start a 3:30 conference call for those of us awake at that time?

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