Wired Wednesday

Last night was a kicker. For two weeks of my kid’s winter vacation, I was asleep before 10 pm most nights. Night before she goes back and I have to be up at the crack of ass…I get energetic mentally and cant sleep. Then she woke up and it was nearly 2am before she went back down. Another hour for me. Got up at 6:30 am….and after two weeks of dragging my ass up by 9..I leapt up today instead of hitting snooze ten times. None of this is enthusiasm or will, mind you. This is anxiety. Just like when I worked. The only time I slept was days off when I knew I didn’t have to be tied to a schedule. Now I am back on her schedule and it’s making me nervous enough to fuck with my sleep schedule. Yay. My neuroses knows no bounds.

Today was better,mood wise. I was a little hypomanic even. Grocery shopping, dishes, picking up around the place, writing. I showered. I even wore a bra today. Sad that the donning of said undergarment is how I gauge whether I am actually functional on any given day.

The problem today was unadulterated anxiety. The snowstorm left a lot of people in the trailer park without phone or satellite or their pipes froze…so it’s been a hub of activity with people all around fixing stuff. And they park outside my place and walk through my yard and I just get so damned freaked out. Yes, I know it’s asinine. No, logic doesn’t change a thing. This has been an issue for me for many years and it’s never really gotten better.I try to approach it with a different attitude but it doesn’t help. Maybe it’s a form of psychosis.

At the risk of tempting the fates…I am going to dare to say I am grateful that I won the winter lottery this week. My pipes did not freeze, my furnace did not go out, and my car started without a problem. Seeing those around me who did not fare so well makes me feel like I should at least say thanks to whatever force is working in my favor. That being said, the balance in the universe probably has something really nasty in store for me.

Oh, well. Back to routine. My kid;s routine. Which means I am going to have trouble sleeping. I am going to have anxiety attacks when  I take her to and from the bus stop. I am going to be completely tapped out by 9 pm yet too wired on stress to sleep. Toss in all the random mood swings and the subfunctional depressive days…Yeah, life’s a fucking joy.

Though…My kid climbed in bed with me last night, put an arm over me, and seranaded me with Patsy Kline’s “Walking After Midnight.” Which is the song I’ve sang to calm her since she was a newborn. It was so sweet it made me smile. I guess it’s those moments that make the rest of the shit so irrelevant.

Just wish I got more of those sweet moments to balance out all the ass trash moments. I’m greedy that way.


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