The Goddess Insomnia

Hypnos (the god of sleep) has denied me some of my needed sleep for months, so much so that when he does send his brother Morpheus to me, Morpheus knows he only has so much time to give me dreams, so he rushes through them, turning them all to panic. 

I rarely cannot get to sleep. I do too much Zumba for that to happen. This used to be my main source of insomnia, for I would fret and fret about all the stuff I still had not done, and I would lie awake for hours. I've solved that problem with my little book of lists, which I create before I go to bed, jotting down any task remaining (sweep floors, call school, doctor's appointment at 10, etc.). 

Not to be outmaneuvered, my body has discovered it can still avoid sleep if it wakes me up fretting at 2 a.m. Darn it! 

I can read for an hour or two and probably go back to sleep eventually, but it won't be the same. I still need to get up early with the kiddos to get them to school. Often I can sleep until 4 or 5, and then I can survive the day with little diminishment of my energy level. It's just kind of irritating. 

In the meantime, before my body figures out the sun ain't coming up anytime soon, I'm working on my novel. It's nice and quiet right now. Good time to write.

What do you do when you can't sleep? How does the goddess Insomnia visit you? 

(Actually, this can't be her name, not unless she's a Roman god. The Roman version of Hypnos is Somnia, god of sleep. Still, I like the title, and I think that will turn into at least a line of my novel--if not the title of something besides a blog entry some day). 

Nocturnal Not-Sleepings

Before I was awake

Aware

I killed a bug that wasn't there

And brushed my leg

Along the sand

Rubbing dirt with outstretched hand

I heard the mower

Someone snoring--

No, more like a pig exploring--

Felt the poke

Of knees, cold toes

And coughing, snorting from a nose

I rubbed my eyes with gritty fists

Rubbed out the dreams

Unfogged the mists

And rose from bed a little sad

No dreams, no rest

The night I had

Was no more restful

Than a Zumba class

But my fatigues, like hours, shall pass.

Kudos to Darrell B. Nelson at Project Savior for unintentionally giving me the third line of the poem. I hope all of you slept better than I have lately. This waking up between 3 and 5 every morning is starting to wear on me. If only I can figure out why... or at least make myself get to bed by 9. I did finish my Zumba instruction training, though, and that means I am now a certified instructor... now to get my whole class routines together, and start teaching!

Early Morning Rant

I'm still working on the backsplash. I designed it perfectly, so that I pretty much have to cut every single tile at least once. Brilliant. Several days' more work to go before I'm done, I fear.

Even worse, I woke at 3:30 a.m. with a horrid Christmas song running through my head, along with the steps from Zumba running through my legs. And calluses everywhere. Some from yard work, most from doing the %&#$! backsplash. I tried to go back to sleep. But no, it wasn't going to happen. So I got up, wrote a little, read a little, and tinkered.

I'm just starting to get tired again, as I hear little kids stirring in the bedrooms above me. This is going to be a very long day.

At least, at the end of it, the hubby will be home. For that, I am truly grateful.

Early Morning

Up again

Mind churning

Faster than

The world is turning

Child cries

Cuddle close

Where child lies

While night-time flows

(away)

Snoring sounds

Filter in

All around

A softened din

(of sleep)

But I'm awake

The world a weight--

Oh, for God's sake,

It's just to late

(to sleep again).