Archives for category: Sleepless Nights

I sat. Then I sat some more. Eventually, I noticed I hadn’t hung up my pants after changing into jeans after work. So, I did that, still feeling pretty frustrated, kind of numb, and fairly disappointed with the evening (with myself?). Even now, I’m feeling pretty raw, sorrow holding on around the edges. I sat here, awhile, fingers resting gently on the home row of the keyboard, just staring at the monitor, not moving, just breathing. Suppressing my agitation and distress with pure will, heavy, stoic, and just barely adequate. Communication failure. Connection failure. Right now, doing “my best” does not seem enough.

So, I sit in my studio. Waiting for understanding. Waiting for peace to be restored within my core being. Waiting for my face to stop feeling frozen. Wondering, now and then, how to drag myself from here to there, and whether that takes some measure of forcefulness I don’t fathom?

Rough bit of path here. My heart aches. I mean, being real, a moment of heartache, frustration, and a resurfacing of despair is grim and exceedingly unpleasant…but… I’m breathing. I’m not in any physical danger. For most values of “I’m okay”, I am very much okay. “Move along, folks, nothing to see here…”

Still. I’m feeling a mix of unpleasant emotion, and more than anything, I’d rather not be doing that. I’d rather be hanging out with my Traveling Partner right now.

I’m fatigued, and my communication skills are reduced. Small annoying mistakes compounded by how very difficult it can be for people to talk about feelings in the first place sent the beginning of a quality evening skidding sideways in a very different direction than it seemed it might. So. I sit in my studio, unwilling to keep at earnestly (haplessly) making it worse while trying to do anything at all that might make it better so unskillfully that no good outcome could be obtained. I sit quietly. I write a thought. I sit quietly-er. Piece by piece trying to think things through and understand more clearly. I’m not doing all that well with it. It’s too early to go to bed. It’s not helpful to sit around crying.

I look around the studio and think about the things I’d like to get done, tomorrow. I guess, first, I’ll have to begin again. Right now, it’s not feeling so easy. There are going to be some verbs involved.

It’s been a strange week, in some respects. I’m sitting here with my morning coffee, mulling over the strange sights I have seen, standing in front of the office, taking an occasional break from working. I see a lot of things. Our building is immediately opposite a large hotel, and surrounded by restaurants, banks, businesses, public gathering places, and transit stops. There’s a lot to see, is what I’m saying. Homeless people. Busy people. Angry people. People who are lost. People who are pre-occupied. People who are exceedingly well-dressed. People who are dressed, well, as though they are in Portland (it’s pretty casual here). People with ear buds in their ears, talking to unseen others over wireless connections mingle with schizophrenic people; it’s not always possible to tell which are which simply by the conversations.

…It’s a city. There are a lot of people. Human experience is vast and varied. I see a lot of things passing by, as I stand quietly enjoying the theater of humanity existing. Too often, I find myself wondering how long this will last…? Humanity, I mean. We’re doing a pretty poor job of thriving, as a species, it seems.

Yesterday, I walked past a man laying on the pavement, flat on his back, head lolled back and somewhat downwardly, past the curb, sort of (but not quite) into the street. Nothing about it looked comfortable on a freezing morning. He was not wearing a coat, or wrapped in a blanket, or covered up at all, really. He did not appear to be “sleeping” so much as unconscious. People passed by, glancing down, walking past. He was in front of a Starbucks. Some time later, he was gone.

Later, I was startled to see a man run screaming and yelling from inside the hotel across the street. Not a guest, obviously, from his clothing; a homeless man, perhaps, unkempt, and pants literally around his knees as he ran, hobbled, up the street and away from security, who chased him half-heartedly. I heard later, from the doorman of the building I work in, that the running, screaming, man, had been defecating in the actual lobby of the hotel.

I saw a well-dressed woman, obviously a professional woman of some sort, well-groomed, and precise, talking on her phone outside the building. She was sort of fixed to the spot where she stood. Face tense. Jaw clenched. Trying to “hold it together”, until her emotions broke like waves against the stillness of her face, and she began cursing and weeping at the person on the other end of the call. In an instant, she was as human as anyone. In an instant, people began to avoid her physical space, and turn their faces away from her suffering.

I saw a younger woman on a bus stop bench, rocking and crying, making her misery quite public, while she stayed somehow still very private, herself. People simply walked past.

Misery is pretty common in a city. Maybe everywhere. I used to be immersed in it, myself. I have cried in public, unable to hide “the shame of my emotions” at a time when I found them shameful, but too far gone in the experience to care about it anymore. I have run screaming, angry, or hurt, or frightened. I have had tense public phone calls that would have been better handled privately, personally, and face to face. I have laid still, sick or injured, immobilized by my circumstances in some other part of my life, stalled by the chaos and damage.

…Fucking hell, I am so glad I stand where I do, today. It’s been a bit of a journey getting here. I don’t take my current good fortune for granted; it could happen to anyone. Frankly, any of it could. It’s oneΒ  of the fundamentals of our humanity; in spite of the wealth of variety in the human experience, misery is both plentiful, and tediously similar, no matter the circumstances. And any one of us could be “stuck there”, at any time. No kidding. If you aren’t miserable, right now, take a minute to really feel how good it is to feel a bit better than that. πŸ™‚ Celebrate getting to this better place, or celebrate having never had to experience real suffering (if you are that fortunate, thus far in life) – it’s worth a moment of recognition and appreciation.

The fact that Thanksgiving is behind us, already, is not sufficient reason to turn my back on gratitude. Gratitude is lovely all year long.

I arrived home last night, after a somewhat trying commute, and there was my Traveling Partner, relaxing, waiting for me. The house is spotless, aside from my studio, and I’m committed to tackling that this coming weekend. Moving things around improved how comfortable things are, and somehow I’m not completely disrupted. It’s pleasant. I am enjoying the changes we made, together. I take a moment to sip my coffee, and feel grateful for all of this, too.

Reading the news, or observing the passing theatrics of human misery standing on a city sidewalk, it’s easy to forget the joys in life. They’re worth experiencing. They are even worth wallowing in, if you’ve got enough joy to do so. πŸ™‚ It’s okay to enjoy life’s pleasures – I try to avoid being a dick about it, though, and refuse to avert my eyes from human suffering. I’m not sure what to do about it, sometimes. (A lot of times.) I think, probably, we could do more, better, to alleviate a great deal of suffering in the world… probably harder to do that, if I’m not willing to be aware that it exists. I think about an X who tried to “buy her way into heaven”, unsuccessfully, of course; heaven is not for sale. We build heaven with our actions (there are a lot of verbs involved), our compassion, our concern, our authentic resolve to change the world – did I mention action? Yeah… this planet isn’t going to take better care of itself. We’ve got work to do.

Don’t like what you see around you? The answer isn’t in turning away from the problems. What are you going to do, to change the world? Check the time. It’s already time to begin again.

I woke about an hour ago. It’s a bit past 3:00 a.m. now. Little point in attempting to return to sleep. No idea what actually woke me. For now, I’m dealing with this sinus headache, but, and this is just real, I’m almost delighted that I can, mostly, just breathe. The vertigo, which I think may be a result of sleeping with my neck at an odd angle, combined with this head cold, is a cruel new addition, and I’m already “over it” (meaning to say, I’d very much like to be done with this whole mess, now, please…).

I worked yesterday, from home, and wrapped up the day about 2 hours early, compared to a typical Monday. I honestly wasn’t good for much. Today, either, potentially, but I am feeling “up to it”, and no coughing or sneezing, so far, and able to breathe (mostly)… I may go into the office today. I sit here sipping icy cold grapefruit fizzy water, wondering if I really will. The advantage is small; I have more monitor “real estate” there, and this allows me to work somewhat faster, with more things open and easy to see. That’s it. The disadvantage? If I am still contagious, I get everyone on my team sick (small office space), and potentially also everyone I talk to. That’s a dick move. I resolve to stay home if I start sneezing or coughing, and decide that if I do go in, I’ll go quite early, and overlap with folks for a much shorter period of time, keeping my hands washed, and wearing a mask. If nothing else, the mask itself will discourage conversation, and reduce risk further.

…I’ll probably work half a day, get the essentials done, take advantage of the efficiency of the big monitors, and cancel live calls/meetings that involve face-to-face participation.

My coffee is very good this morning. I feel content and alert in spite of the ridiculous hour. My body feels mostly pretty comfortable, very little pain. The discomfort I do feel is largely to do with this cold, and I’m clearly getting over that. I find that to be very good news – honestly, I have shit to get done. Not being up to doing things sucks. I keep sipping this coffee, between physical therapy exercises, and wait for this vertigo to clear up; if it doesn’t, I’ll stay home. Driving to the office in the dark, in the rain, and also with vertigo? That just sounds fairly stupid.

Back and forth… water… coffee… work from home? Go to the office? More water. Another sip of coffee. How do I best take care of this fragile vessel? Water. Chicken broth. Tea. Sleep. More sleep. More water. Limited use of cold care remedies, and only those that are definitely effective, and don’t mess with my head. More sleep. More water. More broth. Food when I can eat. I don’t know what works for you – do that, though, I suppose. I do this. πŸ™‚ I’d been going through a record-breaking number of Kleenex’s there for a day or two, but this box next to me has been open now for more than 12 hours, and it’s still half full. Progress.

…Oh, damn, do I enjoy being able to breathe? Oh, yes, yes, I do – so very much. πŸ™‚ It’s nice having that back.

I find myself looking forward to the cold autumn air and the rain fresh breeze, when I step outside, into the pre-dawn darkness of morning. The house is comfortably warm, but not hot. I feel a bit overdressed for the indoor temperature, and remind myself that my coat is in the bedroom closet, my partner still sleeping. Going to work without my coat, in this weather, in this health, seems fairly dumb; I’ll have to go get it, probably waking my partner. :-\ It is what it is. I remind myself he would comfortable do so, himself, were the situation such that he needed a clothing item from the bedroom, while I am sleeping. lol No coat = no commute. πŸ™‚ That’s some solid self-care decision-making right there. πŸ™‚

I look at the time. It’s very early, not quite 4:00 a.m., but getting that kind of head start on the day will be a huge win for reducing exposure to any lingering contagion, so… I guess it’s time to begin again. πŸ˜€

I woke drenched in sweat when the alarm went off. I’d already committed to working from home today, so I reset it and went back to sleep for another hour. I woke 30 minutes later, still drenched in sweat, but waking at a more comfortable point in my sleep cycle was nice. I’ve been down with a nasty head cold that first made its presence known late on Friday, with a hint of a tickle in my throat after an entire day of being generally cross about stuff without cause. I didn’t think bringing it back into the office (where I likely picked it up, let’s be real) would be considerate, particularly immediately before Thanksgiving. So. I’m home. Still fairly sick, but I think I’m up for working… mostly.

I pause to appreciate how fortunate I am to be able to work from home when I choose to do so.

Then I also pause to wonder what I’ll really be good for today, and to appreciate that it is a Monday, a day (on my calendar) that is short on meetings, and generally filled with updating workbooks,Β  slide decks, and preparing notes for meetings that occur tomorrow and on Wednesday. I think I’ve got this. πŸ™‚

…I haven’t started yet. LOL I’m still thinking about it. Sipping my coffee, and making the day as normal and ordinary as I can. This? This is my “commute”. πŸ™‚ Although, I may take out the trash before I actually start working, to feel the cold morning air, and really differentiate the work part of the day, from the non-work part of the day.

This cup of coffee is terrible. Is it me? Is it the coffee? Seems unlikely to be the coffee beans, themselves; they were excellent when I had coffee Friday morning. (Yesterday it was just pretty tasteless.) That means that 1. something wasn’t quite right with the preparation or 2. my sense of taste is altered by being ill, or by the symptom relieving remedies I’m taking to address that. Either way; something’s a bit “off”. My results, even with coffee-making, definitely vary.

My Traveling Partner has been sweet and considerate while I’m sick. I am pretty sure he’s sick too, although not nearly as severely taken by this particular head-cold. He’s worried aloud once or twice that perhaps I have the flu? Fucking hell, I hope not. 😦 He’s encouragingly tried once or twice to suggest in a hopeful tone that perhaps it’s just allergies? Not likely; I don’t have allergies on this order of magnitude, ever, really. I’m not particularly allergic to pollen, and those sorts of things, and can happily inhale deeply the scent of newly mown grass, and bury my face in flowers. (Aside from some “late in life” developments with food sensitivities, and bee stings, I’m largely allergy-free.) I kind of wish it were allergies… I could go into the office in good conscience, and tell myself this “drenched in sweat aching all over” feeling is… a coincidence. lol

The last two days has been fitful restless sleep (hard to sleep deeply when I can’t breathe), naps, drinking tea, water, chicken broth, and sitting around bitching about being stuck sitting around. Once or twice I’ve dragged myself out of the house on some errand that seemed important enough to warrant the effort. I’ve regretted each one by the time I returned home. I didn’t write, because my head was aching and full of snot, and I just didn’t have anything much to say that wasn’t 100% pure bitching about being ill, like a fussy child. So… yeah. I think you’ll get enough of that, here, this morning. πŸ˜‰

My attention to my surroundings is much improved today. I even feel mostly up to working a bit, in spite of every movement making me cough, and the house feeling like we’re trying to roast chestnuts using the furnace. lol If nothing else, I know I can begin again, and I know “this too shall pass”. My results may vary… but I get results. πŸ˜‰

 

I slept well and deeply, but woke very early (more than an hour ahead of my alarm clock). Pain woke me. Nothing acute or new, just arthritis, but pain is pain, and pain hurts. I mean, that’s literally it’s defining quality… so… yeah. Some yoga eases me into the morning, before I ease myself into my work clothes. Another day, another new beginning. πŸ˜‰

I have some interesting perfume samples to try; gifts from my Traveling Partner. I choose one. Try it. It has a very familiar scent (not necessarily perfume-related familiarity). I can’t place it. This one quickly goes from “this is interesting”, moving quickly through “this is nice” and settling, before I even make it to the office, somewhere in the vicinity of “well, this is regrettable”. lol Okay. Sampled.

I sip my coffee, and wonder if my keyboarding is “too loud”. It’s early, and the world feels quiet. At this hour, everything sounds “too loud”. I make an effort to lighten my keystrokes, to minimize the noise. Another sip of coffee. I smile with the satisfaction of it; it’s a great cup of coffee.

This isn’t a fancy moment, nor wildly joyful, and it’s generally uncomfortable (physically), and this perfume is now… annoying. But, it is, nonetheless, a pleasant moment, and needs nothing from me besides to be noticed, savored, and appreciated long enough to become a memory of a pleasant moment. (Or I could focus mostly on the arthritis pain, and allow it to become a literally painful memory, but I’m honestly not inclined to do that; I already have quite a few of those. πŸ˜‰ )

I look around my studio. The house, everywhere else, looks holiday ready and thoroughly tidy. My studio, as a result, looks even more chaotic and… well… not tidy, than usual. I think about the weekend ahead, suitable for laundry and tidying up, for sure. πŸ˜€ I make a silent commitment to myself, and decide to begin again in here. πŸ™‚