An Open Letter To Sleep:

I miss you.

No, really, I miss you a lot. I miss drifting off to sleep at a normal hour and then STAYING ASLEEP FOR MORE THAN AN HOUR.

Tonight,  I fell asleep at 11:45pm, was up at 12:30,  1:10, 3:15, and then finally gave up the ghost at 4something.

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I think lack of sleep is starting to make me ugly. No, really.

I think lack of sleep is the reason my ass is the size of a small planet. NOT my desire to have chips and queso. Or Reeses shaped anything.

I think lack of sleep is making me a bitchy, obsessive human.

I think the nightmares I’m having every single night has something to do with the lack of sleep- Last nights horror movie of sleep involved me a.) getting into a physical altercation with my arch nemesis b.) having my house robbed c.) when driving to a hotel to sleep after my house was robbed, my car was hit repeatedly in the parking lot of the hotel and a note was left on the window “suck it.”

Ya. I’m sure I probably need therapy, or just a REAL NIGHT OF SLEEP.

I’ve taken Lunesta. I’ve taken Nytol, Nyquil, Ambien (I sleep walk/shop), melasomething and tylenol PM. I’ve done sleepy time yoga, breathing exercises, blah blah. NOTHING WORKS. If I drink too late, then sleep is really not going to happen. Translation? I am at a total loss. Tomorrow night, I’m going to try sleeping in another room.

I’ve cut out caffeine after 5pm. I’ve started drinking decaffeinated hot tea. I’ve increased the water consumption. I’ve bought new sheets, new comforter, cozy pj’s. I tried diffusing essential oils in the air of my bedroom. I stopped watching tv in the bedroom. I leave my phones in the other part of the house. Only one of the dogs sleeps on the other side of the bed. He doesn’t even touch me, therefore, I can’t blame him.

SLEEP JUST WILL NOT HAPPEN.

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I’m really starting to think I’m just going to never sleep again, or at least never get a solid night. I was just exist on a string of naps. I will essentially have to spend a large portion of my income on concealer and pray that no one notices the fact that I’m unable to string together sentences.

See, I would be ok with the lack of sleep if I was responsible for the survival of a baby. You know, those little creatures that rarely sleep when they are supposed to. That would be a justifiable reason for being a cracked out, exhausted maniac.

Me? I have no excuse. I just have nightmares about highly improbable life scenarios and/or lay in bed running through the list of things I forgot to do the day before.

 

 

 

 

 

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