I have no business posting anything today, as I am so tired my Exhaustion Meter is down in the Meltdown range; proved by the fact that this morning when I woke up, I had to ask The Kitties my name. (I'm Meow, by the way.) Anyroad, I thought since I was drifting along in La La Land today, I might as well write about sleep. DISCLAIMER: The quality of this post is not guranteed and your money will not be cheerfully refunded if it sucks.
I love sleep, but I'm not very good about going to bed. Even if I am as exhausted as I was last night (it's tech week), I will always stay up way past my bedtime, just because I can. Part of it is because the act of getting ready for bed, (the teeth, the face, the jammies, the constant re-evaluation of my life and worrying about everything) takes so long, it's easier to sit on the sofa, absentedly petting The Kitties and staring into space, a decision I regret the next morning.
But I always repeat the same pattern. Sa plus change. . . . . (The elipses are for dramatic effect, not because I forgot the rest of that phrase.)
When I was a kid, my mother went into Full Battle Mode to try to get me to sleep. (And eat, but that's another story.) I had to drink warm milk with molasses in it every night, and yes, it was as disgusting as it sounds. Along with this concoction, I was told every night that my sister always went to sleep when she was told to, why couldn't I be more like her? I don't know how this Delightful Duo was supposed to make me want to sleep. It usually ended up with me laying in bed crying, because I was nauseous and felt inadequate. The same thing happens today, only it's due to beer and learning lines. . . .sa plus meme chose. (See! I told you I knew it!)
Since this has been a life-long pattern, I've gotten used to it. I know that, eventually, I will get more than five-six hours sleep one night and the next morning I will be my usual, bubbly, delusional self. And I will promise myself that I will go to bed earlier every night from now on. And promptly break that promise. At least I'm predictable.
And exhausted. Meow out.