A Little Late Today

I normally write this blog at 6 AM, before I start my day. On days when I’m doing Moulage (casualty simulation) at an exercise, I’m elbow-deep in nose and scar wax at that point. So I have to wait to blog until after I’ve finished and scrubbed my hands of all the fake blood.

One intense day done, and I’m in the middle of intense day #2. I am so tired. I’m getting 5 hours of sleep a night, and I can tell. I’m dreaming of sleeping in tomorrow.

No pictures from the event, because all mine are gory.

A Good Day

It’s definitely a Monday morning. I woke up from annoying nightmares a few minutes early, and it was too late to go back to bed. I don’t really have words right now, just a lingering need to go back to sleep. Which I will not because of the danger of sleeping through that 11 o’clock appointment.

I now have my coffee. At the moment, it’s not accomplishing much. But the austere white house across the street has a rosy glow to it, and the day promises to be productive.

I will let it be a good day.

Do Nothing

I want to do nothing today. Absolutely nothing. I want to store up the nothingness so that when I go through my busy week, I feel rested and open to whatever the week throws at me.

Photo by Ihsan Adityawarman on Pexels.com

It’s hard for me to do nothing. I will end up doing something, even if it’s reading Quora all day (a waste of time; I would probably accomplish more by napping). I will check on the plants in the basement and, if I feel bored enough, I will possibly write. That’s the only thing that gets me writing these days — absolute boredom, and my writing is desultory and not flowing.

If it were possible to store up sleep, I would take a nap. But napping will keep me awake at night, and I can’t afford to miss my lifetime sleep.

I will end up emulating the example of my cats, who do nothing for hours a day. Right now, Chloe is laying on the arm of my chair, cuddling up against me. I could certainly do worse.

Monday

Today definitely feels like a Monday, and it’s barely started.

What does a Monday feel like? It starts with the desire to stay in bed all day. Blinking away the last wisps of sleep, I crawl out of bed and stub my toe. I hobble to the bathroom and look in the mirror. My hair looks like it’s been styled by a demon.

I have a whole day to get through. With office hours and a meeting all afternoon, I should be busy. But I suspect the hours will go slowly and I will miss the weekend all the more.

If I didn’t need sleep …

Daily writing prompt

If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?

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I can hardly imagine not needing sleep. Sleep feels like a blessed release from the mental demands of the day, and I enjoy going to sleep as if it were a chosen activity rather than a necessity. I have (because of my bipolar) had episodes where I couldn’t sleep, and it’s an aggravating feeling. For the sake of this exercise, however, I will imagine not needing sleep without consequences to my body or psyche.

The first thing I would do more of is read. Not the internet, but real books, because I would have time to get into them. I would find a comfortable spot to read and l would relax. My bed could be used for a place to relax because I would not be sleeping there.

I would look at the night sky more. All the interesting astronomical bits such as meteor showers and auroras happen late at night, when I am sleeping.

I would write. I wonder if inspiration would be easier at night when all was quiet?

I would meditate. As I would miss sleeping, it would be good to have that time when I can shut off my mind.

All of this is predicated on the belief that others would be asleep, and I would have the peace and quiet to pull off my plans. If nobody slept, this time wouldn’t be free. Bosses would expect more overtime and household chores would overtake us. Then I would certainly prefer sleeping.

Me, before I got old and needed a full night’s sleep:

What day is it?

I’m on the road outside Erie PA, after a two-day car ride and an intense three day doing moulage. I’m moody and in need of sleep.

Must be Monday.

I have never been so tired.

I am at New York Hope, a disaster preparedness exercise. After two nights of ten-hour car rides, five hours of sleep a night, and an early morning wake-up call to turn some role-players into victims, I have another day and two nights left for the exercise.

I have never been this tired in my whole life.

Honestly, if I close my eyes I fall asleep at the table. I am contemplating sleeping in a lounge. I keep misplacing my color palate (for giving people bruises and sprains). I don’t know if I can do this, and I have another day of doing this.

I’m going to continue doing this because it’s what I’m here to do, and I am surrounded by sleep-deprived people doing the same thing. Our purpose is to train emerging professionals in disaster and emergency management to deal with situations they’ll face when in the field. This includes search and rescue, triage, evacuation, the news media, and displaced persons.

There will be time to sleep, right?

Afternoon Nap

I can fall asleep sitting up in the middle of a task that I seriously want to do. Yes, it’s true. I did so this morning while editing Apocalypse. It was seriously motivating work!

How the heck can I do this after 8 hours of sleep?

Maybe because I’m getting older. And while I can do it in the summer, I will take afternoon naps. I could not do it for most of the summer because of internships, so it may be time to do it now.

Nighty-night!

I Need Something to Wake Me Up

I mean that title metaphorically, not in the coffee sense.

I have become sleepy lately (extending the metaphor). No Big Audacious Goals, just work and writing on a novel I’m afraid is sleepwalking across the countryside. No exciting plans this summer. No tempting opportunities. Nothing that gives my soul a psychic jolt of caffeine (this extended metaphor is getting silly).

I know I should be able to wake myself up, but inertia is so difficult to break. Which is why I need an assist from the Universe. I want this to be a good morning wake up, not a wake-up call in the colloquial sense, or a wake up and smell the coffee. A good gentle shake, or a cat plopping on my chest. Or fireworks, I’d take fireworks. Or someone yelling from the doorway.

In the meantime, I will see if I can make myself that metaphorical coffee.