Sometimes I wonder if there will ever be a time when I’m not tired. For the past few years, I’ve been experiencing the symptoms of not getting enough rest at night. I’m frequently exhausted and sluggish. I’m grumpy (my patience level is at a near constant zero). My memory is shot. I can barely remember my name. My obsession with caffeine. . . I write love letters to coffee. My relationship with coffee is one of the strongest relationships in my life.
I long for a day when I’m well rested. When my brain functions optimally. When I can read for long periods of time without needing a nap. When I can be nice to people without a herculean amount effort. When I can wake up for work and not immediately think about calling in because of yet another shitty night of sleep.
There’s the saying that goes, you’ll sleep when you’re dead, and at this point, I am beyond ready for that. I’m ready for a good, long, uninterrupted, peaceful sleep. Because let me tell you, feeling exhausted also a little bit like you’re losing your mind sucks ass. I honestly can’t remember the last time I slept well. I’m so tired that I could cry.
So this morning, I’d like to raise a coffee mug to sleep. Sleep, you elusive bastard. You wonderful gift. Maybe one day you and I will meet for more than a few stolen hours. But that day was definitely not last night (people say that rain helps them sleep better, but for me it does the opposite). And it probably won’t be tonight either. Perhaps one day in the near future (God I hope so). Until that time comes, think of me, sleep. Think of me fondly. Because I will surely be thinking about you.
theRorishow 