As I lay there trying to sort fiction from reality, my heart raced, and insomnia struck again.
To get back to sleep, an article I read suggested that we think of a different ending for our nightmares, like we would for a crummy flick.
I get a kick out of the medical community advising us to get plenty of rest, as if we have control over it. Experts further say that insomnia can lead to an early grave. Oh, now I’ll sleep better.
Fact is, I go to bed early and rarely have trouble falling asleep. The problem is staying that way.
Often I wake up from Dan the man’s snoring, which somehow penetrates my ear plugs. What I wouldn’t give for a mute button.
Sometimes discomfort of some sort will nudge me back to consciousness. I’ll lay on a pajama button, for instance, and come to, feeling downright impaled.
Once I’m awake, my brain kicks in and I dwell on what happened a day, week, or possibly decade ago. Or fret over what could occur in the future.
Downing a sleeping pill may or may not prove effective, depending on how full my tummy is. Often, I lay there thinking, “Hurry up and work, darn it!” But you can’t hurry love, or falling asleep. And sometimes neither happens.
So I’m left to ponder my next move. What do you do when you can’t sleep? A friend says he reserves certain books for that occasion “because they are so colossally dull.” Perhaps he should read, “Say Goodnight to Insomnia” by Gregg D. Jacobs.
Others offer relaxation techniques using imagery. They suggest, for example, that you picture yourself a person-sized pat of butter melting on a large piece of toast. Um, hold the jelly.
When she can’t sleep, a gal I know chats on the phone. No doubt her friends appreciate the 2 a.m. calls.
Then there’s the lady who gets up and tidies her house. “One less thing to do when I’m tired the next day,” she says.
Still another says she vacuums. I’m gonna guess here and say that she lives alone.
Otherwise, she’s someone else’s nightmare.