I haven't been sleeping very much as of late,
Probably no more than three to four hours a night for just over a week now. Granted, I've gone through a couple of monumental changes in the last month and I'm assuming that this plays directly into my lack of sleep, regardless: I haven't been able to sleep worth a damn.
So I've tried a few things in order to allow me to slumber:
A) Drink copious amounts of alcohol -- this sounds totally more punk-rawk then it is; I'm a lightweight and it takes about four beers before I get sleepy/have to urinate/pass out in front of the boob tube with me head thrown backing snoring, which sounds similar to an African wildebeest during mating season. I know what you're thinking, "hot'. And you're damn right. Result? Semi-successful, but it could be that I just exhausted myself due to snoring.
B) Watch the home shpping network. It either enraged me to the point where I wanted to reach through the screen and choke the living shit out of the 'hand models' (Oh, look, I get paid to model my ... hands. What the fuck?!) Either this or it made me giggle obscenely when I saw the detritus they attempted sell at inflated prices to idiots (much like myself) that were awake at such an hour. Neither response much helped my sleeping issue. Result? Failure.
C) Stare out the window, pondering. 'Pondering what?', you might ask? (As damn well you should.) What I've done with my life, where I am at this current point in my life compared to others of my age/gender/sexual orientation/zip code. Discovering that trust slips away sometimes when you need it most. Discovering what friendship really means. Discovering that two cats sleeping on you while you're doing a multitude of pondering is over-bearing. Discovering that if you poke said cats enough in the neck in rapid succession that they awake, annoyed, give you the stink-eye and then wander off muttering under their tuna breath ... Result? Failure.
D) Wander around the house in slippers and nothing else, sipping chai and muttering to myself. Result? Failure -- and one suprememly pissed off roommate whom had to chemically bleach out his corneas after such an event.
E) Sleeping pills. Pharmaceutical candy. Pills. Poppers. Little handfuls of chemical joy. And I'm not talking about cheap-ass-over-the-counter-buy-from-your-local-grocer bullshit. I'm talking about annoying-commercial-you-see-every-three-hours ... Lunesta AKA 2mg of eszopiclone. Result? Success! I slept almost blissful seven hours. I think it would have been more but my cat, Bones, decided to perform his morning ritual of gently placing his paw on my forehead until I smack it away grumbling, "Fuck, off, I'll wake up in a second." Enough seconds pass that I fall back alseep when he then places his paw on my cheek, which gets a, "Fuck offfff, gimme a second." More seconds pass, slumber gratefully returns and then I again feel a paw on my forehead. At that point, Bones becomes a catapulted commodity and I awake to feed my two feline sanity-savers.
I think I am now going back to bed.
Bones says, "Get bent, the two-legger has now earned his right to unmitigated slumber, disturb him not." I'm not sure where he learned the word 'unmitigated', surely not from me, and while he does sound a tad like a cryptic little four-legged Yoda, lets just heed his wishes, eh?
Probably no more than three to four hours a night for just over a week now. Granted, I've gone through a couple of monumental changes in the last month and I'm assuming that this plays directly into my lack of sleep, regardless: I haven't been able to sleep worth a damn.
So I've tried a few things in order to allow me to slumber:
A) Drink copious amounts of alcohol -- this sounds totally more punk-rawk then it is; I'm a lightweight and it takes about four beers before I get sleepy/have to urinate/pass out in front of the boob tube with me head thrown backing snoring, which sounds similar to an African wildebeest during mating season. I know what you're thinking, "hot'. And you're damn right. Result? Semi-successful, but it could be that I just exhausted myself due to snoring.
B) Watch the home shpping network. It either enraged me to the point where I wanted to reach through the screen and choke the living shit out of the 'hand models' (Oh, look, I get paid to model my ... hands. What the fuck?!) Either this or it made me giggle obscenely when I saw the detritus they attempted sell at inflated prices to idiots (much like myself) that were awake at such an hour. Neither response much helped my sleeping issue. Result? Failure.
C) Stare out the window, pondering. 'Pondering what?', you might ask? (As damn well you should.) What I've done with my life, where I am at this current point in my life compared to others of my age/gender/sexual orientation/zip code. Discovering that trust slips away sometimes when you need it most. Discovering what friendship really means. Discovering that two cats sleeping on you while you're doing a multitude of pondering is over-bearing. Discovering that if you poke said cats enough in the neck in rapid succession that they awake, annoyed, give you the stink-eye and then wander off muttering under their tuna breath ... Result? Failure.
D) Wander around the house in slippers and nothing else, sipping chai and muttering to myself. Result? Failure -- and one suprememly pissed off roommate whom had to chemically bleach out his corneas after such an event.
E) Sleeping pills. Pharmaceutical candy. Pills. Poppers. Little handfuls of chemical joy. And I'm not talking about cheap-ass-over-the-counter-buy-from-your-local-grocer bullshit. I'm talking about annoying-commercial-you-see-every-three-hours ... Lunesta AKA 2mg of eszopiclone. Result? Success! I slept almost blissful seven hours. I think it would have been more but my cat, Bones, decided to perform his morning ritual of gently placing his paw on my forehead until I smack it away grumbling, "Fuck, off, I'll wake up in a second." Enough seconds pass that I fall back alseep when he then places his paw on my cheek, which gets a, "Fuck offfff, gimme a second." More seconds pass, slumber gratefully returns and then I again feel a paw on my forehead. At that point, Bones becomes a catapulted commodity and I awake to feed my two feline sanity-savers.
I think I am now going back to bed.
Bones says, "Get bent, the two-legger has now earned his right to unmitigated slumber, disturb him not." I'm not sure where he learned the word 'unmitigated', surely not from me, and while he does sound a tad like a cryptic little four-legged Yoda, lets just heed his wishes, eh?
i wonder if they make cards for such things....