- More workplace antics with Jake, Tommy, and Natalie. Ben's been working on example pictures for green screen photography, and we, of course, were only too happy to help out.
- Went to the Muny to see The Buddy Holly Story with both my boyfriend and my parents, because I'm a very brave person indeed. Enjoyed the first half. Second half was loud and long. And it was hot (of course), which didn't help. And I was tired (see next point), which also didn't help. On the other hand, it's the second time this summer that we've made it to the Muny, which beats out the past few years for me.
- I've somehow developed some strange form of insomnia that has ensured that I've barely slept this week.
I'm not even certain when the last time I slept well was. Last week, I think. Definitely not Saturday night, as I didn't even get home till midnight from work and was at work again 10 hours later. Sunday night I didn't sleep well. Same for Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday, after the Muny, I entered that dreaded half-sleeping, half-waking fog where you don't even know if you were ever actually asleep but you're leaning towards probably not. Last night, I couldn't fall asleep in bed, so I went to go read on Oscar the Couch (the world's ugliest and most comfortable couch), in hopes that I would, as usual, fall asleep on him. Instead, I finished the remaining two-thirds of the book I was reading. And still struggled to fall asleep and stay asleep.
Insomnia is not usually a problem with me. I'm really into sleeping. I'm good at it. And usually, once I'm asleep, I stay asleep. I've slept through storms. I've slept through tornado sirens. I've gold medaled in sleeping.
But this week? I can't sleep. I can't sleep at night. I can't sleep in the morning. I can't nap in the afternoon. And I don't quite know why. And lack of sleep makes me grumpy and negative and I start thinking about all the things I have to be negative about. Which usually orient around the bad decisions of the past, or the uncertain future or all the things I should be doing with my life. Or things my grumpy, sleep-deprived brain makes up for me to be negative and depressed about. You know. Perfect bedtime thoughts.
Not really.
I know that the negative thoughts aren't normal. I know that I will sleep again. (Hopefully.) I know that my usual rested self is happy and at least working on being well-adjusted. I know that that everything is not pointless. I know that I'm just tired.
So basically, I'm Tom Hanks with longer hair and only slightly less awkwardness. Except there's no Meg Ryan wanting to meet me at the top of the Empire State Building, which is good because I can't afford to go to New York and I'm really not into pixie-ish blonde women.
I'll settle for some actual sleep. Or at least another cup of coffee.
But this week? I can't sleep. I can't sleep at night. I can't sleep in the morning. I can't nap in the afternoon. And I don't quite know why. And lack of sleep makes me grumpy and negative and I start thinking about all the things I have to be negative about. Which usually orient around the bad decisions of the past, or the uncertain future or all the things I should be doing with my life. Or things my grumpy, sleep-deprived brain makes up for me to be negative and depressed about. You know. Perfect bedtime thoughts.
Not really.
I know that the negative thoughts aren't normal. I know that I will sleep again. (Hopefully.) I know that my usual rested self is happy and at least working on being well-adjusted. I know that that everything is not pointless. I know that I'm just tired.
So basically, I'm Tom Hanks with longer hair and only slightly less awkwardness. Except there's no Meg Ryan wanting to meet me at the top of the Empire State Building, which is good because I can't afford to go to New York and I'm really not into pixie-ish blonde women.
I'll settle for some actual sleep. Or at least another cup of coffee.
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