What are you trying to tell me, brain?

Did I get enough sleep last night?

Probably not.  But since when have I ever gotten enough sleep?

My moms says I’ve had insomnia since birth; I was an impossible baby to get to sleep right from birth. I liked to stay up. I wouldn’t nap.

I believe in the Arcade Fire lyric: “Sleeping is giving in… no matter what the time is.”

And there have been plenty of mornings where I’ve been in anguish because I haven’t slept the night before (whether thanks to my insomnia or thanks to my lifestyle).  But I think the pain this morning was something different. I am carrying a bit of a sleep debt right now, but not as badly as I have before.

This isn’t me not wanting to get up because I need more sleep: This is me not wanting to get up and go to work.

When my alarm went off I despairingly cried out, “No. Please no.”  And on the heels of that actually thought, “At least it’s Sunday, I can go back to sleep.”  Much as I wish that was true, my mind quickly realised that it wasn’t (my alarm doesn’t go off on Sundays) and then I thought, “At least it is nearly the end of the week.”

No. No it’s not. It is Wednesday.  Wednesday – smack dab in the middle of the week with the work-free weekend still three (counting today) painful days away.

And I have to wonder: Do I really want to wake up this way every weekday? And if it is only the weekdays that make me feel like this… is it time to change what I am doing during the week?

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