It is almost midnight. I cannot sleep. In fact, lately, I cannot do much of anything. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps the weather is taking a hold. Perhaps it’s all the work I’ve been faced with lately.
For the second or third night in a row (I can’t keep up with these things) I came home from work and, essentially, crashed on the couch. I slept for a few hours straight in an uncomfortable position, with my contacts slowly gluing themselves to my closed eyeballs. The worst part is waking up from a snooze like that. I woke up in moderate pain with my son snuggling next to me and the History Channel on the TV. My wife and our daughter were no where in sight. I texted her to find out that she had run some errands.
At this point I have to apologize to a friend of mine who might be reading this. Sorry I cancelled on your tonight. I know that cocktail party must have been a blast. But as you read on, you’ll probably piece together why it just wasn’t going to happen for me. But in a funny and related note, you’ll be happy to know that your Facebook invitation automatically showed up on my iPhone calendar this morning as a reminder. Oh, it came complete with it’s own alarm and everything! What it did not come with was the full name of the event. In the future, so you know, name a gathering of your (primarily) college friends (and me) “Collegiate Cocktails” might need some revision. For at 6:15 this morning I awoke to see the following message on my lock screen. “College Cock 6:30 tonight”. Thanks for the laugh, Martha.
After pulling myself together I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because, hey, why not? Eventually I gained enough strength to bring my son into bed — not his but mine since he started complaining about wanting to see the end of the show about the human brain — and I started to drift off again. Only this time, my body would have none of it. It is beyond frustrating that I am tired but cannot sleep. My wife came home and went back into her usual nightly routine of serving others. For the past few weeks she’s been working on a fundraiser for our kids’ school. Who knew this would take so much time out of her life. I feel bad because there’s not much I can do to assist as I don’t know the first thing about fundraising. I say this as a man who plans to become a Catholic school principal one day. Speaking of that, about the only bright spot this day came in the form of the scores I got on my recent online assignments. The professor accused me of “selling myself short in order to dazzle” him. I don’t know what the f&#@ this means but the score was perfect so I don’t really care.
Tried again to go back to sleep, this time on the couch again. You have to understand that until we moved into this house we had a sectional. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing after a few years of wear but I could at least stretch out my 6’2″ frame on this thing. Currently we have matching loveseats. I feel like a bizarre incarnation of that Lily Tomlin character in reverse. My head hangs awkwardly over one end while my legs dangle off the other. Somewhere in the middle, my ever-increasing midsection contorts itself to find the most comfortable angle. Here’s a hint. There are NO comfortable angles. So I made another peanut butter and jelly. They are incredibly easy to make and incredibly good to eat. Don’t judge. Then my wife came into the room and asked me if I was mad at her. Oh dear… Sweetheart, that could never happen. Read the above. It’s either the weather or work or something. I don’t think I’m sick with anything.
When I face these moments of insomnia I always wind up thinking of things I didn’t want to think of. I have the time, being wide awake, to think of how fast our kids are growing up and the fact that my little babies aren’t little babies anymore. This only adds to the sadness and pushes everything into the realm of depression. So, to counteract this trend, and after lying in bed wide awake for forty minutes, I decided to find some wine in the fridge and see if that couldn’t help calm my nerves enough to where I could get back to sleep. The only problem is that I have absolutely no desire to drink it. Wow. Now I’m starting to fear the worst. Perhaps another peanut butter and jelly would help? Speaking of which, I never got to mention my newest fitness plan. This past Monday night I had plan to kick start myself and my metabolism and do something I really hate. I was going to attempt a run. But, by the time I got my sneakers on, the pain in my legs informed me that I was going nowhere. Defeated again by my own body! DAMN! OK, so I thought about it for a second. I might not get anywhere near 180 again in this lifetime. But I believe that everyone should have a goal, a dream. That is when I decided that I must aim high. My new goal is to try going in the opposite direction. Here’s hoping I hit my benchmark of 210 tomorrow morning when I step on the scale! And that glass of wine is still sitting on my nightstand as I write this.
This is going to be a looooong night.