Sleepless in the Sewer

You'd think that any one person could sleep soundly in the corner of a dark and soundless room located in the corner of a renovated basement. There are no outside lights, or noise. No cold and wet-golden-retriever-noses pushing against my arm that hangs off the side of my bed... no warm, cuddly kitty kneading my absent breasts like there would actually be milk in them, purring like a fire-truck in my face.

You'd think that with the absence of all outside factors, one could sleep.

I had a fitful night... the kind where you wake up every hour on the hour and stare at the alarm clock in disbelief, thinking that the red numbers are lying to you and that you've really slept in. At some point in the night would it have been possible to have adjusted the numbers on the clock? Not likely. I've got two alarm clocks and confirmed at three-oh-four this morning that alarm clock number two matched alarm clock number one.

The part that really bugs me is the simple fact that eventually I fall back asleep... a deep and restful, wonderfully comfortable sleep. The alarm clocks go off (yes, two of them, one fifteen minutes before the other and then every nine and four miutes respectively after the alarm has initially gone off) and I struggle to drag my ass out of bed. How does this work? How is it I could jump out of bed the other twenty times I woke up in the middle of the night, but now that morning has called, I curse the waking hour?

It's a love/hate relationship I guess. I'm stressed out and hate the idea of lying down by myself with my thoughts in a dark room. I hate the idea of then waking up; sleeping fitfully. And then I really hate the thought of having to wake up and face the day... I'd rather stay in bed under the covers and wish it all away.

Yes, I'm having a rough "go" right now. I'm not always like this, I swear. But today was just one of those days. The kind of day you wished was over before you even got out of bed. Do you want to know why?

Stick around... maybe I'll tell you one day.