I can't sleep. . .

March 13, 2011


Since returning from Montreal, I haven't been sleeping well.

Odd.

Usually it's the other way around.

I don't sleep well when we're in Montreal.

To be honest, I don't sleep well anytime I'm not in my own bed.

Unless I am thoroughly, completely, absolutely exhausted.

In fact, I am so aware of my inability to sleep well anywhere other than my own bed, I take a fan with me each time I am out overnight.

Causing all sorts of odd looks from hotel employees.

And all sorts of comments from Stephen's mother the first time I walked into her house carrying my own fan.

This visit, she remarked how funny it was that while she was trying to keep the house warm, I was doing my best to keep it cold.

Not true.

I need the white noise to ensure I can sleep.

The silence is deafening.

Don't you think?






For some reason, I can't sleep through the night.

I wake up at some point in the middle of the night.

2.30 am.

3.42 am.

Laying there, I contemplate what I should be doing, what I could be doing, what I have to do.

Like Mount Marking -- which has taken up residence in my office.

And gets bigger by the second.






I love my sleep.

Having it disturbed regularly makes me a very unhappy woman.

I need my sleep.

Crave it.

Look forward to donning my jammies, crawling into bed, reading for a little bit, and then falling asleep with my glasses askew on my face and the book laying beside me on the sheets.

All of which is happening.

Except I'm not staying asleep.

Ergo the problem.

Last night, just to keep things fresh and exciting, I played an unfortunately well-known game of let's-doze-a-bit-and-have-bad-dreams-in-the-few-minutes-that-we-do-sleep.

Dreams that include my father saying politically incorrect things in public, which causes a huge row between the two of us, where my father starts talking about free speech and how we live under the constitution, while I am looking through a crim textbook to find the specific reference to hate speech as several of my students happen to witness this tete-a-tete, causing me to turn to them and ask if I should pass the hat for the free entertainment because most people have to pay for cable.

And I wonder how come I can't sleep.

I also know that the constitution is American, not Canadian.

In case anyone wanted to correct me about that.






As an aside, two of the things in that dream have happened on more than one occasion.

I'll leave it to you to figure out which two.

In addition, I was lulled awake by the snorting, snuffling, wheezing and all around boisterous, cacophonous, deafening, emphatic, obstreperous, vehement and vociferous snoring of my loving husband.

Snoring Stephen + dozing inspired bad dreams = a very, very poor sleep for Dawne.

And a poorly slept Dawne means a crabby, cranky, stay out of my way Dawne reigns supreme until her sleep tank is filled.

Happy Sunday to me!






The kids, however, will have no problems spending the day sleeping.

Last evening, after they finished working, there was a staff showing of the latest alien- invasion-of-L.A. film.

Couple that with the time change, and you have kids coming home at 4.30 in the morning.

I am staying away from the two of them as much as possible today.

Until I have to feed them before they go to work this evening.






Much like yesterday, today will be filled with work, work and more work.

I have to finish reading the first draft of my honours student's thesis.

30 pages.

Not bad for a first draft.

And then after I finish reading and editing it, I will move on to the intro midterms.

Happy.

Sunday.

To.

Me.



Title Lyric: Sleep by Azure Ray