Somnasstastic

I've been sleeping for crap lately.

It's not that I'm not getting enough of it - - my body has been mandating the "enough" (against my will, I might add) - - but that it sucks, quality wise.

I've fallen asleep (watching REALLY BAD movies) on the couch at stupid o'clock in the morning the past two nights... semi-sideways and cramped around and under the cats. I've been up - not feeling sleepy - for a bazillion hours, and just when my brain feels all mush (about 45 minutes after my body has decided to boycott me) I blink for too long, and the next thing I know I'm waking up wrapped under and around piles of fur and rumpled plush throws. Yes, throws, I have to use two to feel warm enough. I feel like a pretzel. Did yesterday too. That's just bull-shit and has to stop. 

This recent sleeping is nothing like what happens when I'm sprawled out under the cozy-hug weight of blanket, throw, and comforter in my super comfy (second most comfortable bed in Christendom) bed upstairs. Up there, in my choose-your-number heaven, I sleep the sleep of angels. And I sleep like the dead. And I don't wake up - regardless of how many alarms I have set.  Seriously I've set (and slept/snoozed through) up to 7 different alarms. 

Part of the dozing on the couch has been an experiment, wondering if I would actually sleep my "normal" 4.5 hours before waking up feeling a little less than refreshed, but bright enough to move on through the day. Yes.  Fine. I'll admit it - I was going to blame the coma-like repose of late on the insane comfort of my dreamy bed.  But that's not it. In both cases of sofa-snoozing, I was out a minimum of 6 hours. Completely able to rouse myself (with or without alarm) at the pre-arranged time for waking. I'm hopeless.

I think it's because recently I had a dream in which my subconscious led me to believe that I was using the toilet and I very nearly peed the bed. I am grateful to all the powers and dominions who watch over me that I had some "performance anxiety" in the dream, and actually realised, before I soiled my own dream bead, that I was dreaming.  The groggy sprint to the bathroom, dodging my own clutter along the way, had to be nothing short of boy-funny to the nth degree. Almost enough to make me wish I had closed-circuit monitoring, just so I could laugh at myself once I was awake long enough for my brain to function.

That's another thing about this recent bout of somnia - my brain is taking FOREVER to get up and running.  Normally, (if there is such a thing as "normally") I can usually hit the ground running in the morning. Not that I LIKE to function that way, but I can. I kinda have to. I'm a mom, and I work.  But lately, I've been slow to move, and when I finally do, I've been forgetting things. Not little things like "Do I have earrings in?" or "Do my socks match?" but things like brushing my hair. Or eating. So far, I've managed to leave the house pretty much fully dressed, but only just barely.

Anyway, yeah, because of that dream, I think I've been sleeping lighter.  I don't remember ANY of my dreams from the past few nights (not a common occurrence for me) and I know I've been waking up a few times through the night.  

Pleh.  It sucks.  

Tonight Foo is home with me again. Maybe that will make a difference. Maybe with a little off-spring magic in the house I'll be able to drift gently, sweetly, back into the swing of grabbing a few hours of rest and waking refreshed and bright-eyed with the rising sun.

Wish me luck...