Late night mutterings

I had a grindingly hard day at work yesterday after having a disagreement with the husband before leaving for work. You'd think that since he's not living in the house, we might manage to go a full day without seeing each other, but no. More space in the bed at night and less stuff to clean is the largest indicator that he's not here. The womanchild changed her plans for the afternoon without telling either me or her grandmother (who had planned to pick her up at school) until after the fact. That lack of consideration, though typical teenage behavior, was the icing on the cake of a thoroughly rotten day. There's nothing like seeing the lessons you've repeatedly taught your child completely ignored to make you feel like a wonderful parent.

I came home tired, frustrated, and cranky. Half of my nose is completely blocked, and the other half won't stop dripping. The roads between my home and my office are littered with stringy bolls that have blown off farm trucks on the way to gin, and defoliant is heavy in the air. Along with the beauty of autumn comes a miserable allergy season, and the weeks of cotton picking time are the worst. Every time I drive by a field that hasn't gone through its first picking, I'm struck by the beauty of acres of pure white stretching out beyond me until my eyes start to swell shut.

All I wanted to do tonight was sleep. I craved it. I wanted to put this nasty day behind me and go to bed early. I put an extra blanket on the bed to enjoy that wonderful feeling of heavy warm blankets in a cool room. That was what was going to salvage my day. Using a CPAP to manage sleep apnea means that I am forced to breathe through my nose when I sleep. This is a good thing unless I'm stopped up, which is why I took allergy medicine. Big mistake. Part of my sleep apnea is restless legs syndrome, and the allergy medicine seems to have exacerbated that. My legs feel like they're trying to come out of my skin. They're twitching and itching. I can't find a comfortable position for them and have to stretch or shake them every minute or so. Plus I still can't breathe through my nose, so I can't use the CPAP to get to a level of sleep deep enough to ignore the restless legs. My bed and my eyes will look like battlefields in the morning.

My alarm goes off in two and a half hours. The debate is on. Do I battle my body to try to sleep or battle my mind to stay awake? I don't see a real benefit to either but choose I must. I'll have to pick my metaphor as well. Will it be the rock and the hard place or the devil and the deep, blue sea?

insomnia