Body. Tired after a day of excesses.
Brain. Refuses to shut down.
I guess that's a type of insomnia. It comes and goes. I'll have my "normal" sleep patterns - that is, normal for me - for extended periods. I've always been a night owl, but eventually enough is enough, and I'll drag myself to bed. I'll sleep fitfully and can guarantee I'll reach the sweet spot about five minutes before the alarm goes off. Thankfully, I work flex hours, so off goes the alarm and I'm back in the bed.
But that's my sleep pattern at its best. The worst comes around every couple of months, and might stick around for weeks at a time. When that happens, I simply do not sleep. At all. I've watched the clock cycle through every digit, over and over again. When it's time to rise, I can't do it. Not because I'm asleep; I'm simply too exhausted to move. I think I saw every minute of March last time this happened.
And now, it's happening again. My brain remains addled, contemplating matters as diverse as the leaky faucet in the kitchen all the way to relativistic quantum mechanics. I get up, play video games, surf the 'net. It makes no odds. I take a walk, staggering round the neighborhood in my sleepy pants. Just gets my mind ever more fired up, counting my steps and calculating my average speed. And maybe, just maybe, I'll write a blog post.
I'm grumpy and short-tempered with my kids and my co-workers. I spend nights wondering why I can't sleep; days fearful that I won't sleep again that night. I get determined that I'll do something to tire my mind. Nothing works. It all just stimulates me further. But I don't get anything done - don't achieve anything during these sleepless nights. I manage to convince myself I could put this brain activity to good use, but it goes to waste, time after time.
The body is tired, but the mind is not.
And tonight, it seems my son is experiencing it, too. Somehow, we'll make it through to the morning.
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