It may be a sign of getting old, but I find myself increasingly unable to sleep through the night. Honey has always maintained that I am truly amazing in my ability to get to sleep in the first place.
Lately, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night. For a while, I wrote it off to pee needs. Go ahead, I’d tell myself, pee and the you’ll drop right back off to sleep.
I really don’t want to get too reliant on non prescription sleeping pills. Drugs are bad. Nancy Reagan said so.
Truth is, though, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I become acutely aware of discomfort. My ears hurt from the ear plugs I wear because of the dogs. My arms hurt because I tend to fall asleep with them underneath me. My brain comes alive with it’s weird loopy patterns. Song lyrics have dominated lately. I rarely get back to sleep.
I still haven’t solved the sleep number crevasse problem. (And before anyone asks, no I didn’t call them back, despite their offer to help. I don’t have the information she asked for and can’t really get it–given that we have the “cheap ass sleep number” (or CASN).
So, for now, it’s going to have to be Advil PM
or Simply Sleep
. I’d blame this all on my recent transition to my fifth decade, but since it predates that, I’ll just assume it’s some kind of karmic punishment for, well, bad karma.
Point of post, for those who like such summations:
WHINE
Thank you, that is all.
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