Archives for posts with tag: please let me sleep

After a pretty poor night’s sleep, I got up early, my usual time. My Traveling Partner woke me, to ask if I would mind going ahead and getting up and starting my day, so he could sleep. I hadn’t slept well, but he hadn’t slept at all. I mumble “sure” and sit up.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I was dressed and gone in 15 minutes.

I was groggy and still a bit stupid as I left the house. I wasn’t sure what I’d do; not yet fit to resume my early morning walks, although mostly over being sick. I stop at the gas station and fill my tank, yawning. I drive to the local trail I favor, and park where the street lights won’t shine in my eyes and nap in the car awhile. I could have taken a seat indoors, at the Big Chain Coffee location nearest me, but I wasn’t up to dealing with people. Not yet. Too early.

My night was fragmented. My sleep was poor quality. The two hours I napped in the car were more restful than most of my sleep that preceded them in the past 24 hours. I wake to the first hints of daybreak. I’m feeling adequately rested, but still not fully recovered from being ill. I yawn and stretch, and give myself time to really wake up.

The food truck that shows up for the construction workers building the hotel on the other side of the parking lot is open for business. I stand in the queue, in the chill of the autumn darkness waiting my turn. A breakfast taco and a cup of coffee, $8.50. The coffee is not quite “bad”, but definitely also not good. It’s strong and it’s hot, though, and it warms my hands through the paper cup. I return to the warmth of the car.

… I’m betting I don’t have a full day of work in me, and mentally juggle the elements of my day with an eye for an early out.

I sigh to myself. Meditate. Write a bit. It’s not a fancy routine, but it works for me. I dislike being sick, it nearly always breaks my routines. Did I remember my computer? Yep, there it is. Computer glasses? Got ’em, no problem. Tissues? Power brick? Yep. I’m ready. I chuckle realizing I did forget to bring along a bite for lunch. I shrug to myself, thinking “it’s always something”.

A new day, a new beginning.

Daybreak comes, a hint of blue at the edge of the eastern horizon. The background noise fills with construction sounds. Machinery. Trucks. Shouted exchanges of information and instructions. I twist in my seat and stretch, as I yawn. The clock ticks on. I hope my beloved is getting the rest he needs.

I reflect for a few moments more, not on any one detail, more on the general ebb and flow of emotions, the changing season, the tick of the clock. I let my mind wander a bit.

I decide to head over to the library, to start catching up on what I missed yesterday. I can even get some work done, using the WiFi there, from their parking lot. And anyway, it’s time to begin again.

I haven’t slept much. I got up as planned, and it definitely felt too early. Vertigo (mild) and a headache (about average) greeted me as I opened my eyes. I dressed and left the house making a point to grab my respirator on the way out; air quality has been unpredictable and often hazardous. I check the AQI before I go.

… I am grateful to see another sunrise…

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I get to the trailhead at the nature park as the gate grinds open. It’s daybreak and there is a dense white mist in the low places. The horizon is an irritated dirty orange, hazy and unhealthy looking. There are several active wildfires to the east, unsurprising given the color of the sunrise.

The morning feels cool, in spite of being rather warm, relatively speaking. Nice morning for walking. I get to my halfway point pretty quickly this morning, after setting a brisk pace and staying focused on the walking.

Perspective matters. (Oaks on a dry grassy meadow slope.)

I’m so tired. I never went soundly back to sleep after I had gotten up to pee, last night. Various noises (and sometimes my Traveling Partner) woke me again and again, each time just as I was settling into a deeper sleep. It was a difficult night. My beloved seemed to be asleep as I left the house. It’s hard to be sure. I hope so. After a night like that, he definitely needs some sleep. I’m grateful that it is Saturday. Maybe I can grab a nap later?

Sleep difficulties are vexing. I’ve had a difficult relationship with sleep all my life. Nightmares. Sleep paralysis. Somnambulance. Exploding head dreams. Night terrors. Insomnia. Circadian rhythm disturbances from shift work. Sleep aversion. My problematic relationship with sleep began when I was a toddler and continues into the present, although far less severe now.

I can thank my Traveling Partner for a large part of my improved relationship with sleep. During our first year living together, he observed that if I could reduce my anxiety about being awake, I would at least be able to find some way to make use of the time, possibly even enjoy it. He was right. Removing the anxiety and frustration made the wakefulness itself inconsequential, and from there I learned to (mostly) make some gentle use of wakeful hours during the night. At some point there was less wakefulness, though I still have occasional difficult or sleepless nights. I no longer take them so personally. My sleep hygiene has improved, too. All of it matters.

I stretch and yawn. The stretch feels good. The sun continues to rise. A new day. Promising – but aren’t they all?

I sigh to myself. The difficult night makes my mind fuzzy. Housework and painting maybe? I thought maybe driving my RC car would be fun, but it’s going to be another very hot day, and if the AQI increases in the afternoon, as it did yesterday, maybe Sunday would be better? I don’t know. I’m glad I’m already done with doing Amazon returns for my beloved. I’d surely mix them up operating under this amount of bleary-eyed fatigue, today. Housework would be a more productive use of my time, today. I don’t know.

… I remind myself to get coffee beans…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I can slow down and let the day unfold gently on its own terms. That works too. I look down the trail, the brown meadow grasses turned to gold by the rising sun. It’s a beautiful time to begin again.