Sleepless in the OC

Agh!  I am more than just a little frustrated with myself today.  (And I feel like the worst friend ever, to boot.)  Since I was cancelled from work last night, I decided to make up for the disappointment by planning a great morning.  My rationale being that, if I can’t work, I should take advantage of my free time by squeezing as much exercise into my morning as possible.  A few texts later, I had a plan and was stoked.  Today was going to start with an early-morning yoga session, followed by an invigorating training swim, then maybe some weight training, leaving the rest of my day free until afternoon nap-time (a necessity for working night shift).  I even had my gym bag packed and ready to go, so I wouldn’t sleepily talk myself out of this pre-dawn exercise when the alarm went off.

But, of course, my subconscious had other plans.  As soon as my head hit the pillow, I knew I was in for trouble.  I could feel it before I even had a chance to snuggle in next to Mouse.  The dreaded insomnia took hold of my brain and wouldn’t let go.  No matter my heavy eyes or exhausted body, I just couldn’t convince myself to fall asleep.  The hours dragged by as the rest of the world slept, and I tossed and turned.  It was a double-whammy – no work and then no sleep.  It just wasn’t fair.

So, when 5am rolled around and my Newport bestie was texting to make sure I was up and ready, I was just beginning to fall asleep.  Thus, I did the only rational thing and bailed, and hated myself for doing it.  Even more so, I hated my messed-up sleep cycle for dictating my day and ruining my plans.  I despise being a slave to sleeplessness!  But, this is one of the downsides to working nights, and is something I’ve grown to just deal with.  Maybe I just need to give in and realize pre-dawn yoga sessions just aren’t in the cards for me.  Or, maybe, I should be more realistic and aim for a noon session instead.

Back Together, Yet Still Apart

Mouse is out of town, again, and I’m left to mope around the apartment without him.  I know it cannot be helped; in his line of work, travel is inevitable.   He has to go to the auctions, because they certainly cannot come to him.  (And, in all fairness, I was the one out of town last week.)  Still, it doesn’t make me miss him any less.  Since I’ve been back, it feels as though work has taken over our lives.  We’ve both thrown ourselves back into our respective careers, and have seemingly become slaves to our jobs. 

It had to happen, I guess.  Even though I had a full-time job in Australia, we spent the better part of last year traveling.  That kind of lifestyle isn’t really sustainable, and we knew it couldn’t last forever.  So, now that we’re both stateside, life has become much less adventurous and much more practical.  And, for the most part, neither of us object.  Our careers are important, and we and recognize the necessity of putting in the time to succeed.  It’s just a little frustrating when our schedules require us to spend more time apart than together. 

More often than not, we feel like ships passing in the night.  Even if we both are in town, we count ourselves lucky to steal a few minutes together as my day is ending and his is beginning. Between my night shifts and his demanding schedule, it’s nearly impossible to spend much time together.  It can be a frustratingly lonely existence.  The irony of the whole situations is that I left Australia largely because I missed him.  But now that we’re living together again, I’m still missing him.  What a ridiculous situation.  It just doesn’t seem fair.

The Beauty of Sleep

It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do for the body and soul.  I struggled through yesterday, navigating my entire day in a thick fog.  I couldn’t concentrate, but couldn’t have cared less.  All I wanted to do was collapse into sleep, but I couldn’t allow myself that luxury.  Sleeping during the day would have been counterproductive; even a short nap could have led to another sleepless night.  So, I suffered through my day, just waiting for the deliverance of nightfall.  And when it came, I was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.  Sadly, this meant I wasn’t much company for poor Mouse.  He came home to a shell of my usual self, a zombie using my body as a disguise.  I made it through dinner, but not much longer.  My eyes grew heavy and I gave into the temptation of sleep within the opening credits of whatever movie we put in.  I was dead to the world before the plot even had time to thicken.  But, quite honestly, I could not care less.  Missing a rented movie was a small price to pay for such an incredible night of sleep.  I awoke this morning feeling human again.  Yesterday, my world was dulled by sleeplessness.  Today, my world is bright, shiny, and full of possibilities.  Now I truly can face the world and actually have a productive day.  Like I said, it is amazing what a good night’s sleep can do.

If Only I Could Sleep...

I hate when my body betrays me.  I despise the nights when, try as I might, I simply cannot lull myself into sleep.  It’s another side effect of working nights, I know.  My circadian rhythms are out of whack.  But knowing this doesn’t make it any less tortuous.  My eyes popped open at 3:30 this morning, when everything around me was still swathed in the black of night.  Even though I had only slept for a little more than four hours, I was ready to take on the world.  (Or, at least, tackle more wedding planning.)  Unfortunately, the world didn’t need much taking on at that hour, as it was still sleeping, along with my lovely fiancé, who peacefully slumbered through my tossing and turning, blissfully unaware of my insomnia.  Listening to his deep, dream-laden breathes almost made it worse.  Why should he be allowed the luxury of sleep while it so cruelly evaded me?  It just wasn’t fair.  I tried everything to ease myself back to sleep: relaxation techniques, reading a book, evening counting sheep.  Alas, nothing worked.  So, now at the much-too-early hour of 6:00am, I’ve officially given up.  I’ve resigned myself to the fate of being exhausted all day.  It won’t be pretty, but I’ll make it through.  And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be tired enough to actually sleep an entire night.

Dead Tired

Last night, I was so tired that I slept in a dead woman’s bed.  It’s sad and a little creepy, but true.  That’s what night duty does to you.  It makes you so tired that you will throw all of your fears and superstitions out the window for a few moments of shut-eye.  In my defense, the former patient had passed eight hours previously, the room thoroughly cleaned, and the linens changed, but still… it was a little spooky.  The thing is, I couldn’t help myself.  It was my third consecutive overnight shift and I was becoming delirious with fatigue.  I was beginning to get that light-headed, dizzy-sick feeling that only comes with staying up for way too long.  I had to take a nap.  It would have been dangerous for me not to; titrating drips with a half-functioning brain is not a good idea.  And believe me, her bed was not my first choice.  I first tried the usual hiding spots, but they were all taken.  Next, I investigated the other empty rooms, but none of them had beds.  My stomach sank as I quickly realized the dead woman’s bed was my only available option.  So, at 4am, with my brain fading fast, I did the unthinkable; I crawled into the deceased’s bed and drifted off into a brief and weirded-out sleep.  As strange and guilty as I felt about doing so, I’m really glad I did.  I needed those 30 minutes of sleep like a fish needs to get off dry land.  I woke up recharged and ready to tackle the remainder of my night.  I was a safer, better nurse for doing it.  I may still be brushing off the heebie-jeebies, but I’ll get over it.  Besides, I don’t think that little old lady minded sharing her final resting place.