I'm back at work today after dealing with a bout of walking pneumonia. I'm probably not supposed to be here, at least according to my doctor, but the big boss is in the office this week and I really, really need to be in.
So I showed up on Monday and staggered through the day, then dragged myself into bed for Tuesday and Wednesday. Today I made it back in again, and I do feel a lot better but nowhere near 100%. Most of all, I'm tired.
I'm tired a lot, so you think I'd be used to it by now.
I have two jobs, two kids (with primary physical custody of both), a house to maintain and clean, mountains of laundry (I have a twelve year old girl, you know) and not enough hours in a day to manage even half of that. On top of that, I'm a life-long night owl and going to bed before midnight (while great in theory) just means I'll be laying there awake, with my mind whirring until I get disgusted with myself and I grab a book or fire up my laptop. And I'm guaranteed to wake at least once, but more like twice each night, regardless of what I do or don't eat or drink or do before bed.
Sleep is now discussed in the same tones I'd reserve for shirtless Chris Hemsworth on my doorstep or Colin O'Donoghue stepping into my shower in full pirate regalia or something. I get so excited when I get it, I talk about it like it's sex.
Oh my God....last night, I got the best sleep.
It went all night long. All. Night. Long. I got a full, solid eight...hours. I was an entirely different woman after.
Sleep. I just need to get some.
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