Since switching meds last week I’ve had maybe 15 hours of sleep total (3 hours from naps). It’s become quite irritating to say the least. I love sleep, and prior to this week I’ve had the occasional bout of insomnia, but nothing to this degree in some time.
One would think I could utilize all this extra time on my hands instead of laying in bed staring at the ceiling while writing Johnlock in my head. I should be working on my essays, catching up on reading and ethics paperwork. But you see, when I’m sleep deprived anything I do comes out looking like I’ve just single-handedly polished off a bottle of Pinot Grigio, and we all know how that ended the last time.
Oh wait you don’t? Let me tell you then. Picture it, 2006, winter. At least I think that’s the right year, late 00’s, at the very least. Anyways, I’m in idyllic retreat house with a roaring fireplace that I’ve lit with my own two hands. I’ve had a lovely walk along the shore despite the cold air. It’s now dinner time and I had a huge lunch and 2 huge chocolate chip cookies, so I’m playing with my salad and not really eating it, and I’m knocking back the Pinot like Jesus himself made it from water. (Did I mention I’m on a retreat with my Catholic young adult group?) Yes, and I keep thinking that my wine glass was empty and I keep drinking it not realizing either I am topping it up or someone is topping it up for me. I am telling some absolutely hysterical story about my adventures in the corporate or education world and OMG I just remembered HE was sitting at the same table as me. Oh. (That probably explains the lack of the salutations and greetings to his birthday email from me, Ms. Creeper.)
Anyways, I digress. So, me, Pinot, not enough dinner. At some point, I go off to bring up more firewood, up flights of narrow stairs, and they are icy and while I am wearing my Dunham hikers for this occasion, how I didn’t break my bloody fool neck is beyond me. Perhaps being on retreat had some bennies after all. Anyways, after the fire had been stoked, I had to have a lay down. I generally don’t drink as a general rule. I will on occasion have a cocktail or a glass of wine, but well booze makes me queasy and I’m the biggest emetophobe on the planet so . . . . . which is why I always preferred other methods of recreation back in the day, a life time ago……. damn 18 years ago is a lifetime, huh? And no, I will NOT discuss this further on the possibility it may incriminate me and well I need to get a job after this PhD.
ANYWAYS, as I was saying, I went to have a lay down. Of course I forgot I was supposed to be leading the evenings events as I was one of the trip organizers. Oopsie. I think at some point I did pass out, and ended up having a heart to heart with K late into the night about unrequited and impossible love. (Not that was the reason I got drunk. I honestly had NO intention of getting boozed up, and it was a long running joke for some time, but it was all in good fun.)
I don’t think I slept the rest of the night. I think I got up at 4ish with a cup of the strongest cup of coffee I could make, and my journal, and I watched the sun rise and the whales in the ocean. It was beautiful and peaceful, despite the Pinot trying to escape from my pores.
That seems like a lifetime ago, as well.
Let’s hope I get a good night’s sleep tonight. Those ethics forms aren’t going to write themselves.