The part where I give up coffee.

Insomnia. Lack of sleep. I have it. I call it my kingsomnia because it actually rules my life.

And, yes, before you ask, this is a chronic situation. It’s not like “oh my, I didn’t get my full 8 hours last night, I need an apple” feeling.

It’s a “if I get five hours a night I am lucky” kind of situation.

And people say “you know, you should just relax”.

Yeah, sure. Have you met my life?

Anyway, this isn’t the place for whining today.

Other people say “well, why don’t you just take some sleeping tablets?”

Um, short answer is no.

You see, I refuse to take a sleeping tablet when I am the only adult in my home (and, sometimes, I wonder, if I’m the only one in my immediate vicinity of life).

So why don’t I sleep?

Simple really. I’m a chronic worrier.

I worry. About the shit you don’t even think about.

Here’s my nightly mental conversation (be warned, it’s a clusterfuck)…

Ooooh pillow finally. Wonder if I could’ve finished that before I turned off my computer. Wonder what’s happening on Twitter. Mmm. Cam didn’t tell me to tweet today. Maybe she’s not feeling well. Oh my sack. Why is she not feeling well? Maybe she had a bad day. Maybe she’s not happy. OH MY GOD MY CHILD’S NOT HAPPY.It’s because I work two jobs and don’t have enough time with her. Maybe her diet is lacking something. She eats enough fruit and vegetables. Does she? Is she really? OMG MY CHILD IS MALNOURISHED AND ITS MY FAULT. Fuck. I am a bad mom. I’ve made bad life choices. How did I get so lucky to have such a wonderful child? Is she growing up because of me, or in spite of me? Am I becoming my mother? AM.I. BECOMING.MY.MOTHER?…

*deep breaths, Cath, deep breaths*

Okay. Time to think about sleep. Sleep. Mmmm. It’s good. Is Cam sleeping? I don’t hear her. OMG I DON’T HEAR HER

*gets up, checks on Cam, who is snoring and sleeping with her legs in the air. much like my sister. genetic legs in air sleeping pattern in progress*

Okay. We’re all good. What’s next? Oh. yes. Sleep. Wait. fuck. lemme just have a smoke and calm down and then I’ll sleep.

*lights smoke. opens twitter*

Thank the stars every night, I do, for Twitter. Insomniacs of the world unite. I do love my friends.

*clicks links. @reply people. tell everyone i’m going to sleep and then don’t. heh. heads back to bed*

Okay, really now. It’s 2am. go to sleep, Cath. think about bunnies. or sheep. or whatever the hell works. Bunnysheep, maybe? Is that possible? Would they be called Baa-nnies then? Would they be hopping sheep? oh my sack. Imagine that, Hopping sheep. Cam would love that. Man I wish I could get her a pony. Would it be easier if she was growing up on a farm? Is suburban life really good for kids? Who ever said it was? Who the hell makes those decisions, anyway Have.I.Made.The.Right.Life.Choices!?

*okay. stop. think about something else. think about. well. that’s not for public consumption. think about the moment you were happiest in your life. ever*

It was raining. Heh.

*falls asleep*

***

You see, the issue isn’t that I’m not tired. Trust me, dudes, I’m tired. More tired than a hamster on that wheel, going backwards in time.

You see, the issue isn’t that I can’t sleep. Because, when I do, it’s deep and real sleep. The type that I’d write love songs about if I had the talent and it were appropriate. There are certain situations in which I am able to fall asleep very easily. None of these situations will be occurring again in the near or far future.

You see, the issue is that my actual power button does not work. My brain’s little “mute” knob has gone astray.

So, that’s why. I’m trying to remove stimulants from my life. My theory is quite simple: give up coffee. less caffeine in the system. less likely to fall asleep.

Four days in, and I’m not sleeping any better. Yet.

I’m waiting, brain. I’m waiting.