I do not sleep well. Not historically. I’m used to lying in bed for thirty minutes or an hour before I fall asleep. It’s why I’ve gotten good at bedtime stories. It’s where my anxiety comes out to play if I’m not careful. Once asleep, my dreams are often vivid, for better or for worse.
Recently, I’ve surprised myself and gotten better at going to bed. Increased exercise and an early wake up time pushed my body to do the thing my brain wouldn’t: stop thinking and rest. It’s been a blessing.
I’ve been off my game the last few nights. A combination of jet lag, a mild cold, and lack of gym time turned my 10:30 bedtime to an optimistic 1 am last night. I made myself stop looking at the clock. I listened to my audiobook (Michelle Obama’s Becoming); I tried some meditative breathing; I got out of bed to take my temperature (not even close to a fever); I got out of bed to look for my cat who might be trapped in the closet (he wasn’t); I reset my 5:30 alarm to 7:30; I gave in and watched an episode of Parks & Rec on Netflix.
You know the feeling: when you are exhausted and want to sleep but for whatever reason it’s not happening. I don’t have the magic formula to fix it. As soon as I can, I’ll slip back into my old routine. Shake my cold, wear myself out at a Kickboxing Cardio class, hit the pillow.
This morning, though, I feel the poor sleep making my eyelids sore. My head is reminding me that I’m still a twinge sick. I know that illness always get a little better if you get up and get moving, (In fact, most things get better if you get up and get moving) but I’m already bargaining with the clock: how long can I stay in bed before I guilt myself into getting up and getting to work. I’m looking at my calendar with hope, could I work from home?
Being tired is not the end of the world. The day still happens. I’ll most likely sleep better tonight.
Today, I will not complain about it. Much. Not more than I already have, that is. Why give a bad night’s rest more power than it needs? Why not get out of bed and try the day anyway?
With Love,
Natalie