When I was young, like in the fourth grade or so, I was quite the insomniac. Sunday nights were always the worst. Tossing, turning, staring at the clock, watching it get later but being unable to fall asleep. Too many thoughts, too many worries…Of course, when I was eight, I didn’t have many personal worries, so I was very concerned with things like global warming. It probably didn’t help that I was at a new school where I didn’t know anyone.
But I slept better and better as I grew older, and those nights of tossing and turning came less and less frequently. But last night was one of those nights. Worried about work, then trying to stop myself from thinking about work. Thinking about various other things, and trying to stop myself from worrying. Because with everything I was thinking about, there wasn’t anything I could do—not at 1 a.m., at least. Then I had upsetting dreams. I don’t remember them, but I woke up very restless and upset.
So now I’m all cranky and sleepy and came in to work to find a priority project for this morning. Uck. The only thing keeping me going right now is the bag of cookies someone at work brought in for me.
Current song in my head:
“Where the Streets Have No Name” by U2