I’ve been oversleeping, something that is both luxurious and frustrating. Luxurious, because I know I am lucky to be able to do it, and frustrating because I don’t necessarily want to do it.
I have had trouble falling asleep recently, and find myself staying up reading until 2 am. This in itself I don’t mind so much; the quiet, uninterrupted reading time is delicious.
It’s the morning after that’s the problem, because inevitably, when I fall asleep at 2 am, I am unprepared to wake up at 7:30, or even 8:30. I find myself half-asleep, turning off my alarm when it offers its maddening electronic beep, and then returning to the deepest of dream-filled slumbers and waking up confused, groggy and still lost in the dreams at 10 am.
This morning I dreamt I had breakfast with someone I haven’t seen for several years and the mood of the dream left me disconcerted when I woke up.
I tend to think that my natural sleeping pattern is midnight to 8 or 9 am, but frankly, I would prefer
being up before that. I hate waking up late and then an hour later wondering where my day has gone. If I could write well at night, I wouldn’t mind staying up so late, because I would spend the time writing and not have to feel guilty when I woke up late in the morning. Instead, I stumble into my morning, feeling rushed to get started writing, harried because the morning is half over, confused by the visits in my dreams.
Every day I vow to fall asleep earlier, get up earlier. Every night I find myself blinking at the dark, then getting up and grabbing a book.