(no subject)
An hour of trying and failing to sleep seems like a lifetime. Especially when you have to be up for work in the morning and you know your body needs rest, but you can't seem to slow your racing mind. Your thoughts are changing subjects every 10 seconds, the serpentine train of thought weaving in every possible direction, and all the while, you have a constant, nagging inner monologue which more often interrupts your attempts to calm down and relax than helps them.
Maybe you told yourself after you went out for a drink at 1:30 AM that when you got home, you wouldn't sit down at your computer. The computer never helps you sleep, you may have said. Besides, you had work the next morning. So when you got back, you opened the door, and spent a good 15 seconds staring over at that monolithic machine before you were able to walk upstairs and go to bed. And the time you spent after that, pondering your job, your failing love life, even counting the bumps on your asbestos ceiling, seemed to stretch for days. You tossed, you turned, you played with the cat, you rolled off your bed and onto the floor, groaning in exhausted agony.
Obviously, you eventually got up an hour later, and your entire plan had gone to shit. Sleep? Why bother trying? What was the point anymore? Something was wrong with you. You were different. It seems, you were meant to live a tireless existence, whether you liked it or not.
Maybe you told yourself after you went out for a drink at 1:30 AM that when you got home, you wouldn't sit down at your computer. The computer never helps you sleep, you may have said. Besides, you had work the next morning. So when you got back, you opened the door, and spent a good 15 seconds staring over at that monolithic machine before you were able to walk upstairs and go to bed. And the time you spent after that, pondering your job, your failing love life, even counting the bumps on your asbestos ceiling, seemed to stretch for days. You tossed, you turned, you played with the cat, you rolled off your bed and onto the floor, groaning in exhausted agony.
Obviously, you eventually got up an hour later, and your entire plan had gone to shit. Sleep? Why bother trying? What was the point anymore? Something was wrong with you. You were different. It seems, you were meant to live a tireless existence, whether you liked it or not.