I don't even know what a deep sleep means anymore. Sleep evades me more and more these days. I am beginning to see what my future really looks like. Sleepless nights leading to long days of wandering around in a brain fog, babbling senselessly until someone slaps me and says "what the hell are you talking about?" My brain is so full that it is hard to put it rest. I am not unusually worried about anything but I am constantly trying to put things in order, making lists, solving design/work problems. The rational me says I need to do this during normal "working" hours but for some reason the rational me and that part of my brain that has become irrational don't seem to want to cooperate.
When I was in college I could rush home between classes, lie down on my bed and be asleep within minutes. 30 minutes later I was up, quite refreshed and back on the curb out in front of my apartment building, waiting for the next bus back to campus. Those were the days! Relatively speaking, I was way more busy then than I am now. I worked 30 hours a week at a design firm, went to school full time majoring in interior design, took care of my dad who was going through chemo and still had plenty of time left over for extracurricular activities.
Now I find myself missing meals, forgetting items at the grocery store (sometimes even with a list), not spending quality time with friends and family, skipping fun events because I am too busy. How did this happen? I need to blame something or someone so I blame it on technology and my husband. Between the two I have been required to carry more useless information in my brain, sitting on "g", waiting on "o", for instant access. How did it become my responsibility to know exactly what is in the refrigerator, where everything is positioned in the refrigerator, at any given moment of every day? How did I allow this to happen?
I do know how this happened, I love knowledge. Not just knowing a list of facts but knowing the details of who, what, when, where and why. Thank you iPhone and Wikipedia. It used to be okay for me not to know the answer to a question. Now all I have to do is Google it (oh, yeah, thanks Google!) and I become a freaking genius. In my need to be helpful and knowledgeable I have created a monster. My husband tells me that it is easier and faster to ask me where something is than to spend the time looking for it himself. Huh? I know that many women can relate to this, unfortunately, but seriously? I was not there when he placed his car key on top of my car in the garage so why am I the one taking time out of my extraordinarily busy life to help him get back on track? Doesn't he understand that I was in the middle of researching the nesting habits and gestation periods of Bluebirds? Which reminds me, I need to go and compare the data for the optimal times to view the changing colors of the leaves by state and altitude. Maybe in my next life I will come back as a house cat where I can languish my days away in a sleepy stupor, throwing glances of nonchalance at the busy people.