Tuesday, March 13, 2012


Earlier today, around 3 o’clock, a sudden strong, almost overpowering urge to sleep came upon me. My eyelids grew heavy and my breathing slowed and shallowed of its own accord, while I struggled to complete the (admittedly boring) Excel project I was working on. The sounds of chatter and officework about me slowly faded and my vision tunneled forward, aimed at the screen but not at the screen. A disembodied hand seemed to clamp down on my brain, massaging the delta waves out of it, and I seriously thought I’d fall asleep in my office. To top it all off, my left pectoral muscle began violently twitching, not unlike what my lower eyelid does when my body deeply craves sleep.

This called for some drastic measure. Unable to get me some cola (for the caffeine, natch) and not being a coffee drinker, my only alternative lay in the jar of dry roasted almonds I keep in a desk drawer. Only a dozen or so left, and I wolfed them all down, one by one, slowly chewing each one to a pulp to absorb all the protein possible. It did help, a bit, but I only really came alive once I got outside into the fresh air and into my rental car for the ride home.


I did get 7.5 hours sleep both last night and the night before. Both mornings the alarm clock (set to go off with the strings and strains of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries”) had to pull me out of a deep slumber. Seemingly I’m not sleep deprived.

I think I’m partner-deprived. Since Friday I’ve been handling the two little ones by myself. First the wife was sick (flu), then she left to go to her four-day sales conference. Me, I’m not built to raise children. Yes, I like to play with them, and I enjoy teaching them and being around them . . . but I find the whole disciplining thing so very tiresome. Patch is not on board with the whole thing, true; we’re approaching category-5 terrible-threes-storms, which now happen on a frequency of one an hour. Little One is an issue too once or twice a day; petty and petulant as a seven-year-old girl can be at times.

I often say (and may have written here) that as an introvert I need an hour solo time for every hour I’m forced to be in the company of others. With a pair of often unruly little ones, I may have to up that ratio to 2:1. That’s what my gut tells me is responsible for this sudden avalanche of fatigue. Honey – I miss you and need you! Come home quick!

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