Today I am taking a big leap – I am going to see a specialist about the sleeping problems I’ve been dealing with for oh, saaaay, about five-and-a-half-years now. Problems that have just been getting worse. I am excited and nervous and I really hope this guy can just “fix” me or give me something that will, although surely it won’t be that simple. (But maybe it will! Maybe!)
But seeing as it’s now 4:59 a.m. and I’ve been awake since about 2:30 a.m. on the eve of this appointment (maybe because Alanis Morrisette’s little ditty about irony has been running through my head much of that time), which isn’t until 9:45, I’m pretty much ready to try anything.
Anything to fall asleep and sleep all night without waking a million times, to wake up feeling good, to not be ready for bed before my husband even gets home from work, to not be cranky and desperate-feeling at dinnertime, to have a longer fuse, to be able to sleep on vacation or anytime I’m out of town, anything anything anything.
To sleep, perchance to dream?
I dream of sleeping.
Who would’ve thought? It figures.
