Incoherent Scribblings

I like to sleep. In fact, I have been known to joke that sleeping is my favorite hobby. I can sleep most anywhere at most anytime. Ask my husband… or better yet, ask my mother. I can sleep here, I can sleep there, I can sleep anywhere. I can sleep in a house, I could probably even sleep near a mouse. I could sleep in a box, (don’t tell my hubby, but) I could sleep with a fox. (Woops! Wrong rhyme. That is supposed to be green eggs and ham!)

But seriously, sleep is a wonderful thing and since I normally don’t have any problems falling into a deep and (mostly) “dreamless” sleep, I guess I take it for granted. Most of the time all I have to do is “decide” to go to sleep and before I can count to ten, the sandman has done his work. And honestly, I am grateful for such a “gift.”

Therefore, it has always been hard for me to empathize with people who suffer from insomnia. It is something I just couldn’t understand. I didn’t want to be mean, I just couldn’t figure out why it was so difficult for them to decide to sleep and then just simply do it.

But, that was before last night. For some unknown reason I just could not sleep no matter how hard I tried. It wasn’t because I wasn’t tired: I was. I just couldn’t seem to keep my eyes closed, let alone fall asleep. Finally about 3 am I was able to doze off, but I kept waking up every fifteen minutes for the next two hours until I got up for the day at 5 am. I got absolutely no rest and I wanted to take a nap badly this afternoon, but I resisted. Now I am so tired I almost feel like I am stoned. I can’t wait to slip underneath my comforter and close my eyes so that I can be finished with this day!

I have learned a valuable lesson today though; apparently falling asleep isn’t as easy as I always thought it was and I will never belittle anyone’s insomnia again. I only hope this was a freak occurrence and it doesn’t happen again, because I don’t like it at all.