I'll take "Sleep!" for $100, Alex!
Another bout of insomnia... Friday, I got up at 8:15, did my work thing, had grandiose plans to 'catch up' on sleep this weekend. Splurged, since Friday was Money Transfer Day (formerly known as Payday) on a sammie from Firehouse, and just kinda relaxed. Finished the grocery shopping list, did as little as possible otherwise, started looking at recipes for sourdough again (I'm still breading it... It's a fascinating process to observe and take part in...And putting yeast into a hot oven to kill it satisfies my more...Machiavellian urges...), just a general relaxing evening.
Although Sosu was supposed to show up at some time. Sic-un had told him (after talking to him earlier in the day) that I wouldn't be home until about 8, 8:30. I came home at 8:15, actually. So. 12 hours after I get up, I'm home from work for the weekend and my evening is looking pretty good, I'm relaxed and I have noshed (and since it's becoming my habit to not eat again, it was a good thing).
Sic-un came home from work at 11:15 or so, ate and was in bed by 1. He had to work Saturday morning, so wanted to sleep.
I would have liked sleep, too, but insomnia struck. I was looking at 2:00a.m Saturday wondering if I'd sleep. Sosu knocked at 2:15 a.m. He spent the night (yes, he was alone, I slept with Sic-un. I ain't touchin' that one again unless I'm asked to. Boy gets a girlfriend and gets a 'don't touch me' complex. Repeat: I ain't touchin' that one again unless I'm asked to.), was in bed about 3ish. I wasn't really paying attention when he went down. I was wondering if I'd go down.
Blinked a few times, looked at the clock, decided I'd better go to bed, see what I could do. It was 4:38 a.m. on Saturday.
I was only dozing when Richard woke up and got out of bed for work, and had left him a note asking him to wake me about 8. I wanted to go grocery and butcher and start cleaning this filthy, filthy house. One of my rules of Spring, especially when it is trying so hard to convince me that it is indeed Springing... I saw 2 robins fucking on my way to work at the beginning of the week. I get the urge to clean and sanitize and wipe down and scrub.
So. I went to bed at 4:38. I tossed and turned and tried all my tricks and what-not and ended up counting (one mississippi, 2 mississippi, etc etc ad nauseum)up to six thousand something and gave up. Eventually dozed. Richard got up, I continued dozing...I estimate I got about 1 1/2 hours of sleep, between 6:30 and 8:00, Saturday morning.
Up, not exactly running, quite bearish until I got showered and dressed and went to the butcher. I love having a butcher right here... Their bacon is SO FUCKING GOOD! Their ground beef? I've had the chuck and the round. It's perfect. Perfect. I am not buying my staple beef anywhere else. We're trying the sausage tomorrow, and their hot dogs...well, Chicago style dogs that they make there on the premises? Yeah. Sublime. Thick cut chops, tenderloin that will melt in your mouth? Yeah. Spices? Yeah. I love my butcher.
Came home, cleaned the kitchen (kinda). I did dishes, I scrubbed the stove inside & out, scrubbed god-knows-how-much-crap off the window in the kitchen... I needed cleaning supplies, but Sosu hadn't woken up yet, and he doesn't have a key any more, and Sic-un wasn't home yet... I laid down on the couch about 5:15 to take a nap. My eyes were heavy, and I couldn't move. Hour later? Yeah, Sic-un came home. Sosu got up (he slept for 15 hours or so, lucky shit). I woke up, went to the grocery. The drive was fun.
On the way there: At a light, waiting for it to go green. I'm in the left lane, they're in the right (it's a van, a silver van). The light turns green. I go straight. The silver van turns LEFT across the lane I'm in behind me, across the turn lane (so convenient, it's right there!), and across the facing 2 lanes of traffic... I actually used the phrase "Jesus Fucking Christ-on-a-bike, in a clown costume...." to describe the antics of one of my fellow drivers. That phrase came out of my mouth. I've been saying Christ on a bike since I picked it up from Idiot's mother. Jesus Fucking Christ is ubiquitous.
I have no idea where the clown costume came from.
Anyway...
Left the grocery early after making my way to the beer aisle. That was early. From the bottom of list up: paper goods, canned tomato/veg, baking products, condiments and charcoal, lunch meat, fresh veggies, bakery/jam/nut aisle, beer...I still had frozen, pharma (lip balm and vitamins) and dairy to go...And I forgot dry milk powder (breading). Some freakin' asshole freaked me out. I said 'excuse me?' with a big smile because I was reaching for the pickles (Claussen's are on sale at Kroger!) and didn't want to startle him in any way and he went off on me, pretty much asking me why the hell I was talking to him. I told him I wanted the pickles. He followed me around after that and I thought it was prudent to leave.
So now it's 3:45 a.m., I've taken something to hopefully MAKE me sleep (and I'm getting cottonmouthy, so that's a good sign).
I've had approximately 2 1/2 hours sleep in the past what? 40 hours or so?? I want sleep, dammit... And I want to sleep more than 4 or 5 hours.
And I have to go back to the grocery tomorrow to pick p the dairy and the pharma and the frozen, and this time I will remember the damn dry milk...
1 comment:
Insomnia! Oh, how I dread that awful place between wakefulness and sleep. A week back I lay in the darkness and shotgun a can of beer in the hope that by 3am it would put me to sleep but instead just lay there tipsy. Insomnia is purgatory, waiting for that delicious sleep. I'm so pleased you got some though, often a little help is the best medicine.
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