Archives for category: Sleepless Nights

Life still happens without much regard to the planning of human beings living their limited mortal lifetimes. Like it or don’t. Plan or don’t. Circumstances will be what they are, independent of our attempts to corral them within the confines of a good plan. I say this as a woman who definitely appreciates a plan.

Before dawn at the start of a planned walk. It’s raining.

I woke early with a plan: get a walk in while my Traveling Partner sleeps, return home and complete a productive work day, hit the road headed for a couple days solo on the coast in the afternoon. Good plan and I woke excited about the day(s) ahead.

… It’s still too dark to start my walk, but it’s pretty clear that I’m likely to be still waiting for a break in the rain (and not going to get one) when daybreak comes. The rain falls steadily.

I check road conditions between here and my planned coastal destination… there is more rain and possible flooding in the forecast. For now, conditions are “fine”, although rainy, between here and there. Flooding is reported, but much further north and much further south. At least, from this early morning vantage point, I’m still on track to head to the coast to get some storm watching in, and maybe a walk on the beach…? Maybe. I intend to bring work with me, too. This is not a vacation so much as a few days of pleasant solo time while my partner works on complicated projects that benefit from focused time uninterrupted by my constant chatter, and without anyone’s feelings being hurt by lack of attention. Still, the whole thing now hinges on the weather; I can hardly drive to the coast if the roads are flooded. So, I keep an eye on the weather and the traffic cams along the route. Waiting. Wondering. Trying not to cling too tightly to my plan. Letting go of assumptions and expectations.

I sigh softly and listen to the rain fall. The sky slowly begins to lighten.

I’m already packed for my wee getaway. I contemplate other potential destinations that might meet the need in a similarly pleasant way. It’s “off season” most places in this area, but I’d be looking for quiet, which shortens the list quite quickly. The last minute planning and execution also shortens the list; it may not be the peak season for travelers and tourists, but a lot of places are full nonetheless.

The rain continues to fall, tapping on the car as if to say “excuse me, you do realize it’s raining?”. lol Yes, yes I do. Rain or no rain, plan or no plan, the day will be what it is. Soon it will be time to begin again.

I’m sipping an afternoon coffee. It’s delicious. I chuckle to myself very much aware that I may “pay for it” later, with degraded sleep quality, but… hell, my sleep quality was crappy last night, anyway, so maybe I’ll just wind down toward the end of the evening and sleep just fine in spite of the coffee? Maybe not. I shrug it off and enjoy my coffee – there’s no need to overthink it, or sacrifice my joy for a concern that is not now. 😀

Work is good. Life is good. I feel okay – sure, there’s pain, but it’s generally manageable. The view from the office is pleasant. This space is quiet. It is quite a nice afternoon, productive and relaxed. It’s a good time to take a break, and just… enjoy the moment.

…I think those words and my brain lobs a half-assed attack my way (“You must be overlooking something… what haven’t you done?!?!”). I shrug it off and sip my coffee, watching the raindrops slide down the recently cleaned office windows. I breathe, exhale, relax, and enjoy this break and this coffee, utterly guiltlessly without self-consciousness or doubt. As I said; work is good.

I sit with my thoughts awhile; another small luxury (having this quiet space in which to reflect). I feel my afternoon anxiety medication kick in – it’s much more obvious when I don’t seem to be needing it. A leaf falls slowly beyond the window… I’m puzzled by that, since the urban tree tops are below me. I watch it fall, as if in slow motion, caught on some breeze, perhaps. The rain falls, gently, still drenching everything on the streets and sidewalks below. There are puddles in the park across the street. The sky is an even neutral gray. I sip my coffee, and sigh contentedly. It’s a good day to be this particular human being, in this particular moment, now. I enjoy it while it lasts. (“This too will pass.”) The quiet is luxurious. I feel infused with simple joy.

…I miss my Traveling Partner, and commit to working from home tomorrow. I smile, pausing to feel the luxury of having this option, and the opportunity to choose when and how to exercise it. I’ve been tied to a desk, or punching a clock – I did it for years. Decades. The feeling of autonomy in my working hours, and even in the location from which I work, is a pretty wonderful luxury. While I do hope I “always” have it for the remainder of my working adulthood, I hope even more to unfailingly appreciate it while I do – and hopefully not be grumpy about it if circumstances change. (I’d like to be my best self, generally, and for me that woman is gracious, understanding, adaptable, and pleasant to be around… I do my best. My results vary. lol)

I take a last sip of my coffee and sigh. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sitting here watching the sun rise. I’m fortunate to have (and enjoy) the opportunity. I was out on the trail early, just at daybreak. It’s a frosty cold Autumn morning, here. There’s no rush to return home, and I know these early hours are good ones for giving my Traveling Partner a bit of time to get some sleep. We each have our different difficulties with sleep, and getting out of the house for a morning walk is one great way for me to show how much I care.

… And I enjoy the walk, the sunrise, and the quiet time alone, for myself…

Enough light to see the trail.

This morning I get back to the car too early to consider heading home, and haven’t yet gotten a “good morning” message from my partner, so I take time to meditate, and to sketch the gnarled old oak on the slope in front of my parked car. I’m bundled up for winter weather, but as the minutes pass, I become restless and ready to move on with the day. There’s a tree to decorate in the living room and I am filled with festive joy.

… It’s still pretty early. Saturday. I consider heading toward home and perhaps stopping along the way, maybe a bit of shopping?

I smile knowing my partner is getting the rest he needs.

Migrating flocks pass by overhead.

I listen to the sounds of migrating flocks of birds passing by. It’s a new day. It’s time to begin again.

I woke to my silent alarm this morning feeling vaguely uneasy. It developed into a pretty notable moment of anxiety in the time between getting dressed and making my way to the living room, where my Traveling Partner was sitting, already awake, headphones on watching something or other on YouTube. I’d planned to work from home, although he had more than hinted that it would be a good day (for me) to go to the office (for him). I figured I’d just get a walk in, early, let him sleep awhile, then work from home, but… why the hell would I drag him along if my anxiety was going to flare up?

“Anxiety” 2011

I could hear the rain hitting the rooftop vent while I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. There’d be no walk this morning – that was when I decided to make the drive into the city after all. Maybe traffic would be light, being the day before a holiday? (It was.) Maybe the office would be quite comfortable since the HVAC was repaired yesterday? (It is.) Maybe I’d feel more focused, and less inclined toward being anxious if I were wrapped in the peculiarly routine mundanity of “the office”? (So far, so good.) So, off I went…

PDX on a rainy Autumn morning.

I sigh and sip my coffee. The day started with that moment of anxiety, but it hasn’t continued, and I feel okay. Absolutely ordinary self-doubt and second-guessing and bullshit that I can certainly get past, given some time and attention, and the appropriate self-care tools. Is it “holiday anxiety”? I mean, honestly, it could be… pretty ordinary human stuff right there. I’m prepared for the day (and the weekend), more or less. We’ve decided on a simple fairly traditional holiday meal to kick of the season, and it’s just the two of us this year, so the modest meal should be manageable for me to tackle on my own, which is necessary this year; I expect my Traveling Partner may spend much of the weekend actually working due to a fairly important project that dropped on him earlier this week (very exciting). Seems likely to be a lovely little holiday.

…I remind myself that his birthday is also coming up fast, and although I’ve already done something for that in a manner of speaking (“…Let’s call this your birthday/Giftmas present, then!”), I’m not the sort to let his birthday pass with not a single actual gift on the day, and I think I’d like to do something special for dinner and dessert… I amuse myself briefly considering the matter, and looking over his gift wish list and wondering how current it actually is. (I’ll have to ask.)

I make a mental note to remind my partner I’d like to get the holiday decoration stuff down out of the attic space, and find myself wondering if that stuff would be a better fit for the storage unit, where I could more easily retrieve it myself without help…? I generally spend the latter part of the Thanksgiving holiday weekend decorating for the Yule season and preparing the holiday “pudding”.

…I’m feeling very festive this year, but also feeling very much “behind on things” somehow…

Funny. When I paused to write, this morning, I had very different thoughts in my head. Something altogether else, that I found perhaps more suited to something I might write on Thanksgiving… something about gratitude, about friends cherished over years, about sharing recipes and memories. But these ended up being the words that tumbled out and landed on this page. I’m okay with that. I’m feeling festive and grateful, and I’m pleased that my anxiety has receded. I find myself hoping that my Traveling Partner went back to bed after I left, and wondering what woke him so early this morning (and hoping it wasn’t me, somehow).

I sip my coffee and “take inventory”. I’m in pain today. It’s the weather, and my arthritis, and the sort of “nothing to see here” bullshit to do with aging and old (physical) trauma. I take something for it, and move on with the moment – it’s already time to begin again, and I’ve got shit to do to get ready for the holiday cooking (tomorrow) and work (today).

I’m awake, though I don’t mean to be. It’s quite late and the house is quiet. My Traveling Partner sleeps. The only sounds I hear are the 3D printers “singing” their happy songs in another room. The sound of the printers printing is a sound I find joyful, and it does not disturb me.

He gave me the moon and the stars.

I look around me in the dim twilight of this room, softly illuminated by various paintings and objects that glow in the dark. I feel very loved; my partner made many of these things for me. They calm me when I wake, alarmed, during the night.

I sit quietly in the dark, smiling. I won’t be awake long. I think happy thoughts of the day feeling wrapped in love.

Love everywhere.

It was a lovely day. I smile recalling the new spice racks my Traveling Partner made and installed for me. I think about love. I think about his eyes and his smile and his rude jokes. I think about his strong arms around me and the way he loves me.

The quiet persists and I am ready to sleep. Tomorrow is soon enough to begin again.