Sleep, Where Are You?

Here I lay, trying to sleep. I've counted all the sheep in the pasture, backwards from 100, an entire rosary and mentally landscaped the backyard of my dreams. It's very pretty, with fountains and rose gardens and organic vegetable patches, and lots of green grass for the pups to get their jollies on. But alas, my brain just won't shut down. I almost dozed off once, but I didn't. I even pretended my husband's snoring was ocean waves crashing into the shore. I attempted to meditate and it made my brain hurt, trying to think of nothing. I came out to the sofa, theorizing I was putting too much pressure on myself and needed a change of venue. Nope, no sleep. The longer this goes on the more hyper I get. The more frustrated and uptight and bent out of shape. Which does sorry little to help me sleep. 

No, by the time six hours had past I was worked into quite a tizzy. I saw tomorrow flash before my eyes. Headache, bitchy, exhausted, miserable. Then I started in on the victim dance, not wanting to have a headache or be bitchy, exhausted and miserable. I've got quite a bit to do tomorrow! Which is today, but doesn't feel like it, because I've been awake for so freakin' long. The victim dance conjures the bitterness dragon, because shortly after that I got all mad at my life in general. The way my under eye bags look packed for a month in Europe after a night like this. The terrible memory of how quickly these ramped up central nervous system induced nights of insomnia would take me down when I was working. And then I stopped and got a grip.

I will survive tonight. Chances are, as soon as that globe of fire we here in Arizona call the sun peaks it's early tentacles into the night sky I will be out like a light. Or if not today, I will this evening. All the important stuff that must get done most likely will, or it won't, and that too I will survive. If I stopped crying in victimized frustration it would help minimize that under eye puffiness I think makes me look so old. And if I remember I am not a victim, but a victor who faced a frustrating setback in a way that could use improvement, it would make it easier to not be so hard on me. I tell myself these things and think I'm calming down, relaxing my tense muscles and wigged out mentality. Oh me oh my, could it be? I think I just might be getting drowsy...

Thanks for joining,
Leah