Little Red Berries
Posted on 2013.01.09 at 07:20
I am not going to go into school until the last possible second. Can I just admit that to myself and stop expecting otherwise? I can write syllabuses from home and I can take long afternoon naps from home. If I'm taking a long afternoon nap after a taxing morning at my kitchen table, how the fuck am I going to survive this semester? I've got a lot of anxiety about this upcoming semester.
....
I wrote that yesterday. Today I woke up at 2 am for kid-associated disturbances, and never fell back asleep. I alternated between pitying myself egregiously, and reading accounts of Rwandan babies born after their moms were raped during the war. (And yes, being acutely aware of the disconnect.) It was a long three hours. Now the kids will be up in a half-hour, and life seems less overwhelming. Coffee helps too.
While Jammies showered, I mentally composed a post called "Hiatus", about taking a hiatus from Unfogged. It was very vague on details and long on self-pity, and opened with "This is probably just the insomnia talking, but..." The problem is that I love Unfogged and taking a hiatus doesn't actually free up any resources. It's just the only component of my life where I can announce that I'm checking out for a few days, and even garner some sympathy in the process.
One of the kids left this phallic thing standing up on the counter, which made me laugh.
I used to be able to will myself into thinking visually, and then after a bit mental fuzz would drift in, and I'd fall asleep. Now I will myself into thinking visually and it requires much more discipline to sustain, and the rest of my brain is just so clanky and alert and rambunctious. I revert to ruminating over wrinkles in my life long before I have any hope of falling asleep. (I fall asleep easily when I first get into bed. I just wake up easily and then the mental lights turn on.)
My current plan is to buy some sleepy-time tea, and the next time I wake up, to get a glass of milk, and go to the couch, and turn on the TV. Clearly reading fascinating books about the generation of children born from wartime rapes doesn't actually soothe my wakeful mind.
Life already seems less dire, now that I'm wearing clothes and drinking coffee. (The problem is that I won't function very well today, and I have a lot of shit to get done.)
Isn't this a pretty tree, from when I was wandering in Montana?
....
I wrote that yesterday. Today I woke up at 2 am for kid-associated disturbances, and never fell back asleep. I alternated between pitying myself egregiously, and reading accounts of Rwandan babies born after their moms were raped during the war. (And yes, being acutely aware of the disconnect.) It was a long three hours. Now the kids will be up in a half-hour, and life seems less overwhelming. Coffee helps too.
While Jammies showered, I mentally composed a post called "Hiatus", about taking a hiatus from Unfogged. It was very vague on details and long on self-pity, and opened with "This is probably just the insomnia talking, but..." The problem is that I love Unfogged and taking a hiatus doesn't actually free up any resources. It's just the only component of my life where I can announce that I'm checking out for a few days, and even garner some sympathy in the process.
One of the kids left this phallic thing standing up on the counter, which made me laugh.
I used to be able to will myself into thinking visually, and then after a bit mental fuzz would drift in, and I'd fall asleep. Now I will myself into thinking visually and it requires much more discipline to sustain, and the rest of my brain is just so clanky and alert and rambunctious. I revert to ruminating over wrinkles in my life long before I have any hope of falling asleep. (I fall asleep easily when I first get into bed. I just wake up easily and then the mental lights turn on.)
My current plan is to buy some sleepy-time tea, and the next time I wake up, to get a glass of milk, and go to the couch, and turn on the TV. Clearly reading fascinating books about the generation of children born from wartime rapes doesn't actually soothe my wakeful mind.
Life already seems less dire, now that I'm wearing clothes and drinking coffee. (The problem is that I won't function very well today, and I have a lot of shit to get done.)
Isn't this a pretty tree, from when I was wandering in Montana?