This Is All I Could Think Of?

Sleep and I have always had a strange relationship.

When my brother and I shared a room growing up, we were able to sleep all day long. I don't remember having a set curfew or bedtime growing up, but I usually tried to hit head and pillow at a responsible time, however. But no matter the bedtime, I tried to sleep as long as possible.

My dad thinks that if the sun wakes you up, you've already wasted most of the day. Growing up, he would arise before any sensible person should be awake and play his 50's country music on the stereo - loudly. Didn't matter who was sleeping, or if you happened to fall asleep on the couch overnight. The early mornings were his and he wanted to play his music.

And if the stereo didn't wake us up, he'd employ other methods. In high school, Chris played the trombone in the jazz band. To wake us up, Pops would play (no, play infers that aesthetic tunes emitted from the instrument) - he would blow heinous noise from the trombone until we came downstairs. Or, he would bang pots and pans on the metal staircase until we groggily and grumpily emerged from the bedroom.

In college, I hated to sleep. I thought it was for the lazy. At that point in my life, I was over-ambitious and didn't have time for it. I took a full course load, worked full time at the outlet mall, and was president of two organizations. I went several years on four hours of sleep. The only thing that came from that experience is when it came time to get a job job. Forty hours a week was taking a break.

Nowadays, my sleep pattern is back on the same erratic path it was years ago. Rarely do I sleep through the night. I usually awake around 5:30 or 6 wide awake, unable to return to sleep. And with the time change, it's soemtimes an hour earlier. I'll go to the couch and watch news and/or movies until until 7. Sometimes I'll go back to sleep for a handful of minutes before I have to get ready.

Last night was completely different. Our organization had a pre-party to generate publicity for our December art gala; it was held at a local art gallery that had pieces priced up to $100,000 (which, by the way, put thoughts into incubation that may be a topic of discussion for later). It's been in the planning stages for a couple of weeks and I've been terribly nervous about turnout. The event, however, was by most standards, a success. On a personal note, I did something I've not done in several years - wore a bow tie. Melissa has always vetoed that particular item but since she didn't attend last night, I felt like I was getting away with something.

I am not a social animal by any stretch of the imagination. It's not that I mind going out. Contrary to my innate personality, my job requires me to meet new people and carry on small-talk like we've been buddies for years. I find that terribly tiresome although I must admit I sometimes, but rarely, meet genuinely interesting people; however, that is the exception as most people, myself included, are genuinely dull. (The fact that I'm writing about my sleep rituals of the past fifteen years cements it.) Add my general disinterest in chitt-chatting to have only eaten one slice of pizza all day, and I was dead tired by the time I got home at 9:15.

I plopped on the couch to watch mindless tv for a few minutes and found myself dozing off at 9:45. I actually had to force myself through my nighttime ritual of brushing, flossing, then cleaning my face.

Generally, I have to read a few chapters of a book before I get tired. Always, I have to fall asleep with the tv on or a sleepless night is guaranteed. Last night, no reading and I watched about ten minutes of tv before I was sound asleep.

And this morning, I was awake exactly one minute before the alarm went off.

Not bad.