My husband and I went to the beach earlier this year to celebrate several different anniversaries, and I picked up a mug boasting a coffee on it called Insomnia. Every morning after a particularly rough night of wrestling with my circadian rhythm and insufficient amount of REM, I drink coffee out of the mug. It’s significant for a couple of reasons.
The first is to signal to the universe my surrender, to say that I know there are some things I have no control over. In admitting this, I remember that I cannot fault myself if I am not to blame. It’s an action along the lines of the Serenity Prayer where we ask “to accept the things [we] cannot change, the courage to change the things [we] can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” I can’t make myself fall asleep. All I can do is spend my time wisely until sleep comes and practice healthy sleep when possible.
The second is to wipe the slate clean. Some facilities keep track of how many days have passed since an accident, and when I drink from the cup, I am trying ritualistically to wipe the slate clean. Does it work? I hope so, but I never follow up the next day by yelling “YOU PROMISED!” at it as it glistens in the dishwasher. I may be ridiculous, but I’m not that extreme. Also, I’m forgetful.
It’s been a long, hard week with lots of concepts to grasp, many lessons to learn, and much cold weather to battle. Upon regaining consciousness, I was only able to get out of bed this morning by saying, “Rise and shine campers, and don’t forget your booties, because it’s cold out there today.” My husband laughed and said, “I have been thinking of that movie all week.”
Thanks Harold Ramis and Groundhog Day. You made getting up this morning possible.
Insomnia does win for the least useful (or tie for first) part of my life. Got about 3 hours of sleep last night. I’m that kind of exhausted tonight where sitting up is too tiring, but my body STILL can’t manage to pass out. Several of my old friends used to say “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” but that is because their bodies are able to fully participate in the entirety of the sleep cycle.
Okay, now I’m going to lie down and pretend that this is easy.