I am deeply envious of those who get a full night’ sleep.
Lately, I have been able to only sleep for a few hours, wake at 2 a.m. (give or take a quarter) and then lie there, tossing and turning, sleep eluding me.
I’ve taken to sleeping on the couch because Lamar is an extremely light sleeper. Or he claims to be; yet, a few years ago, when I had a 45-minute coughing fit, he didn’t even open an eye.
The worst is when you are really, really tired and you lie down, thinking how badly you need that good restful sleep. You can be so exhausted you can’t even blink. But the minute your head hits the pillow, your eyes are wide open and your mind is spinning like it’s on a hamster wheel.
Such has been my nights as of late.
As I wearily lie there, my mind tries to trick itself into slumber by thinking of the craziest things. Or perhaps the craziest thoughts come to me because of my lack of sleep.
I found a rerun of “Seinfeld” in the wee hours and was awake long enough to see Elaine’s hairstyle go through some pretty dramatic changes. I also wondered what kind of skin care she uses because she hasn’t aged at all. I spent far too long wondering about that before my mind drifted to other things.
Such as: Do dogs ever get sleep deprived? I mean, mine sleep a lot – do they ever feel like they don’t get enough sleep?
Why does Doodle like to eat my shoes? Did she have shoe envy?
Why does Haagen Dazs vanilla ice cream taste so much better than other vanillas? And on that train of thought, why do the pumpkin and egg shaped Reese’s cups taste better than regular ones?
Was I the only person in the world who didn’t like pumpkin spice lattes? Or pumpkin flavored anything?
Was Facebook really going to start charging us per month, and sell all our photos?
What if Mama was right and everything in “Star Trek” would come true one day? Even worse, what if Mama was just right – about everything.
Were we out of our emergency mayonnaise? I hadn’t checked the shelf in a while. The one in the fridge may be the last one in the house.
I panic if I run out of mayo.
These are just some of the inane things running through my head as I tried to make myself fall back to sleep.
None of them worked. Instead, these random questions ricocheted through my psyche like a pinball.
I tried to remember when “Seinfeld” went off the air – it was ’90-something.
I wondered if I got a perm, if my hair would look like Elaine’s when she wore it loose and curly.
Did I have any hidden caffeine other than coffee in the morning? No.
Someone suggested it may be hormonal changes coursing through my so-young body.
At the time, I scoffed it off; at 2:30 a.m. I was wondering if that could be the case.
The dull headache of sleep deprivation began just as the realization I was not going to fall back to sleep washed over me.
“I’m just not going to fall to sleep tonight,” I muttered aloud.
Doodle lifted her head and looked at me, but was back asleep as soon as her head rested on her cushion.
I looked at the time on my phone. Another hour and 15 minutes had passed.
I played a few rounds of Candy Crush; it didn’t help.
Finally, finally, after another hour or so, I felt myself yielding to sleep. I could feel the sleep settling in as my breathing grew shallow.
Sleep, precious sleep, I was going to sleep as long as I could – it was never too terribly late, mind you, as I can’t sleep past a certain time.
And Doodle won’t let me. She’s my back up alarm clock system.
I was hoping I would feel rested when I woke up, instead of like I was a grunting, stumbling Walker in makeup.
Sweet, glorious sleep.
Just as I felt myself drifting off, it happened.
The alarm went off.
I tried to re-create the almost-sleep atmosphere, but all my attempts were futile.
I got up and pushed the “auto” button on the Mr. Coffee.
Maybe sleep would find me later. If not, I could always philosophize some more while I watched another rerun of “Seinfeld.”