I had no trouble falling asleep over my book, so I turned
out the light around 10:45 . But now
it’s 2 a.m. and I’m awake. My mind has
begun to turn, like a merry go-round, starting slowly but picking up speed. My
husband has chosen tonight to snore—not loudly, but vigorously enough to keep
me awake. I try to relax, to breathe, to capture pleasant thoughts, but it’s
all for nothing. “Snxxkkll,” says my husband, and the breeze from the ceiling
fan seems unusually strong. I can’t get comfortable.
My mind seizes the opportunity to highlight whatever flaws
and character defects it wants me to know about, thrusting them up for
consideration. I think of three more things, minor but necessary, that I will
add to the to-do list for the week. I feel overwhelmed by how long that list is
growing. Soon I’m having a full-blown anxiety attack and all hope for immediate
sleep has fled. I know that I lead a richly blessed life—that I am not in need
in any real way. But tell that to my mind at 2
a.m.
I repair to the guest room where I turn the TV on low, just
loud enough that I can barely hear it. I find this soothing. Eventually I fall
asleep, only to be woken at 4:18 a.m.
by my son’s alarm clock, the aptly-named Sonic Bomb. I storm into his room,
which adjoins the guest room, and change the time on his alarm to a more
reasonable hour, muttering imprecations (Why
was the alarm set for 4:18 in the
first place? Inquiring minds still want to know.) However, he hit the snooze
button at 4:18 , instead of turning
off the alarm, so it goes off again at 4:28 . This time, the dog, who sleeps with him,
decides she requires a bathroom break.
By now, it’s getting dangerously close to the time my own
alarm clock is set for. Should I try to get a little more sleep? Do I need the
TV again? Mmm, this bed is pretty comfortable...
Wait—is that my husband getting his coffee in the kitchen?
Nuts.
What do you do at 2 a.m. ?
 |
| Oh, sure, sleep now... |
