I'm walking in my sleep today.
I am also typing technical agendas in my sleep, opening mail in my sleep, and transcribing thrilling eleven-minute voicemail messages all about HYDROGEOLOGY in my sleep (which may, of course, be a blessing in disguise) ...
... all of this in spite of the fact that I've been caffeinating myself -- gently yet steadily, like a labor room pitocin drip -- since the moment I rolled out of bed this morning.
(Or maybe I'm sleepy because of the caffeine. I don't know. I've read that too much caffeine can actually make you feel tireder. This is a distinct possibility, I guess ... as evidenced by my groggy use of a non-word like "tireder.")
I'm getting plenty of sleep these days: I average eight hours a night, more or less. (More on those "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" nights, less on any night that involves body lotion and/or Don Johnson.) For the first time in my adult life, in fact, I'm sleeping in actual, delicious, measurable chunks. Motherhood pretty much wipes out your ability to sleep straight through the night. So does drinking a BOX of WINE every night. For a while, even after I'd stopped drinking, I worried that the damage might be permanent, and that I was going to spend the rest of my life grabbing sleep in twitchy, twenty-minute doses. But apparently I'm being given a second chance at normal sleep. I drop off about halfway through Ally McBeal, and I'm out solid until Rhonda Bentley is delivering that first local weather report at 6 a.m. ("Coastal fog, clearing inland.")
And I wake up feeling great most mornings ... especially when I've had the presence of mind, the night before, to load up the Krups with carefully-measured [snort], fresh-ground Millstone, so all I've got to do in the morning is wander out to the kitchen and plug it in and wait for coffee to *happen.*
(Which it does, unless of course I've forgotten to also load up the Krups with carefully-measured WATER.)
It's the middle of the afternoon when the coma usually *ensues* in earnest. Right now I'm experimenting with different afternoon "pick-me-ups" ... coffee, Red Bull, juice, coffee, Penguin Caffeinated Peppermints, fruit, coffee, a brisk walk around The Isolation Booth, more coffee ... and of course, my personal favorite: shutting my office door, laying my little head down on my desk and drooling into my jacket sleeves for eleven minutes ...
... and sometimes it works. Sometimes I catch a second wind and sail through the rest of the afternoon. Those are the days when I get actual work done.
And then there are days like today ... when all I really have the *oomph* to do is sit here with papers spread out all over my desktop and the phone blearily clamped against my head, pretending that I'm engaged in all of this EXTRA IMPORTANT *WORK* so no one will attempt to engage me in a real conversation ...
I seriously need to figure this middle-of-the-afternoon energy-depletion thing out. I'm willing to try anything.
As long as I don't ... you know ... have to give up caffeine.
And as long as I don't have to ride a BIKE.
blurb #1 will go HERE: i
love it if you check out the new issue of *tapestry*
... and then write a letter to the editors, telling 'em you want more
articles about coffee and typewriters ....
i'll ask a *relevant* question:
amazingly profound thought of the day: "I must amuse myself by being blindly optimistic or I might turn to drugs." ~ FifiOToole ~