This week “spring forward” fucked me up more than usual.
My sleep’s been off anyway because a) I was hormonal which for some reason gives me insomnia, b) MB has been away for a few days at another conference so I probably haven’t been active enough and spending too much time at home, and c) Sunday night I always have a bit of trouble sleeping anyway because my sleep patterns have gone off for the weekend.
Then fucking spring forward.
Sunday night I found myself still awake at one AM. But at least I expected it. I had a carby snack and some hot milk with honey to relax me. I worked a bit on my memoir. When I finally went to bed, I surprisingly had no problem drifting off. But the morning was a fucking bitch, let me tell you.
I guess if I were back east, I’d be used to waking up in the dark all winter. But I think it gets light here earlier so I haven’t been.
Today I couldn’t bear getting up seven when the sun was barely up, and slept in till 8:30. Luckily I’m working from home today.
The only good thing about DST is that yesterday afternoon flew by. Before I knew it, it was after five.
* * *
I want to be a super-independent woman, but basically I’m a bit of a mess when MB is away for more than a weekend. I don’t leave the house as often. I’m alone a lot. Some nights I have trouble sleeping (not last night though, finally). I also start to worry.
Without MB distracting me, my head starts to spin into an endless vortex of made-up anxieties. I started thinking what if we’re next for an earthquake? Why did I move to a state where earthquakes are a possibility?!?
Then I started to worry about my dad. Right now I’m reading The Shell Seekers by Rosamunde Pilcher. It’s very good, but there are characters my age with a mother who just had a heart attack. And the mother character is younger than my father. So I started to worry about my dad, and thinking I just couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him (knock wood).
Of course I feel the same way about my mom, but my mom still seems vibrant, seems, basically, the same as always, while my father seems to have aged suddenly in the last several years.
My grandmother lived to be 94. I really hope my dad lives as long.