Friday, January 16, 2009

Regular programming will commence after the weekend

You know, I did the math the other day and I’ve been awake for more of 2009 than I think anyone else has with this damned bout of insomnia. I was happy to leave 2008 behind, but it would appear that 2009 is just as determined to kick my ass. So, I’ve decided to become Chinese and celebrate the New Year when they do. It’s my version of a do-over. Who’s with me? Plus, I REALLY like pork buns, so, you know, it sort of works out.

I’ve been doing better for the past three days. I believe my body reached a state of such profound exhaustion that it had no other alternative than to just finally give in to sleep. I was starting to have small panic attacks as the sun went down, knowing that my hateful, HATEFUL bed was waiting upstairs to taunt me. Then the other part of my brain, the one that is full of logic and intellect (ergo, the smaller portion) would go “SUCK IT. YOU ARE GOING TO SLEEP TONIGHT. STOP PANICKING.” But because there is less real estate between my ears for that voice, I found myself awake, once again, reciting poetry in German because that’s how I roll.

Suffering through insomnia, I’ve discovered, is a lot like going through the five stages of grief:

1. Denial: Wherein I say a lot of things like “Oh, I’m FINE! These under-eye circles? I’m just bringing back heroin chic!”

2. Anger: Wherein I wonder what universal deity I pissed off to have such heaping coals of torture shoveled onto my head. Also might bitch slap anyone…for anything.

3. Bargaining: Wherein I plead with God – PLEASE let me sleep six consecutive hours. I will totally TRY to stop swearing if you grant me that. It's all I ask - SIX MEASLY HOURS. I'll do anything if you stretch it out to eight. I will even stop using my mother for content on this website for eight. But let’s not get crazy…six will do.

4. Depression: Wherein my life mimics a Cymbalta commercial. Depression DOES hurt everyone, especially my clients who have to look at my pale visage and unwashed hair.

5. Acceptance: Wherein I consider becoming a vampire and start sharpening my teeth in preparation. Though, problem – I really like garlic.

The bargaining seemed to work as I've had three good nights now. I haven't dropped an F bomb since Tuesday, though I believe I've transgressed several times in this post alone. Poo.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

SO glad you are back! Missed hearing about the life of a personal trainer/overworked, overtired dog owner PLUS author!
You are a life line for many!

Anonymous said...

You know Jen, it could just be good training for if and when you have kids.....then you'll be quite used to being up half the night! In the mean time, enjoy the pork buns. They're yummie.