Blogtober #14: How Do you Sleep?

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on

I sleep with the television on. Yeah.

So ever since I was a wee Square Peg, the quiet of night didn’t sit well with me. I couldn’t take it. Being a light sleeper since childhood, I can hear everything. Everything. (My Dad worked at night and loved to point out that he knew who would be waiting for him when the front door opened in the early hours of morning. Yours truly.) Unfortunately, that also includes silence. And nighttime silence has never been comfortable for me. It’s way heavier and ripe with the possibilities of my very active imagination. So, yes, I’ve always had issues with sleep; not sleeping well, not getting enough hours, so on and so yawningly forth.

Enter the television. And yep, I know it certainly doesn’t help with rest and incites the movement of my mind when I should be dreaming. But I need the white noise, y’all. Or episodes of Chopped, at least. I’ve tried the sleep sounds with falling rain and thunder and all that and…didn’t work. But what works? The TV. Utterly bizarre.

How do you sleep?

Blogvember #19: The Wrestler.

I’ve become a professional wrestler. 

It’s the only way to explain why my bed looks like this when I wake up. I snapped this photo a day ago, moments after arising from my slumber (ah, poetry) and gazing at my bed in crusty-eyed shock. Had I participated in a dance competition in my sleep? Had I entered some kind of back-to-Math-class nightmare in which I fought an eager teacher engaged in a quest to make me understand fractions? Or had I fulfilled a secret wish to become a wrestler? Perhaps it’s the latter. 

I should add that I tried to videotape myself once to determine what was really happening at REM. When I woke up, the phone that I had propped up next to me was under my bed. 

Le sigh.

Happy Saturday. May you sleep serenely, unlike me. 

Blogtober (Redux) #24: No Sleep

The last time I was in Europe, a whopping 11 years ago, my jet lag lasted about two days and then I was fine. My, how things change. It took about five days to acclimate to the time change this time around. And not only was I experiencing days filled with exhaustion and plenty of sleepless, wide-eyed nights, but my digestion changed, too. As in I could barely keep anything down for several days after I arrived in Germany. Utterly bizarre is the best way to describe all of the above. And then I researched jet lag and learned that a lot of what I went through was normal. Just a wonky circadian rhythm.

But I still can’t sleep, you guys. Nearly a week later and back stateside, I fall asleep promptly at 10pm (missing Murder, She Wrote at 11, might I add) and then wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning, waaaay before my 6am rise and “shine” time. Now this isn’t that abnormal (I believe I posted about my strange new sleep schedule a few months ago), but the exhaustion seems stronger and more acute. Le sigh.

Anywho, here’s to not sleeping all the way through because, hey, I still went on my trip, right? (But if you have any remedies for my little problem, especially you travel pros out there, kindly let me know in the comments, won’t you?)



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?