Tag Archive: sleeping


I’m not sure what’s going on lately in my brain but something isn’t right.

I think my problem is that I haven’t been sleeping well.  I’ve been pretty much a mess since I’ve been home from Europe, but I feel like my internal clock should be back to normal by now.  This weekend, I pretty much just slept when I felt tired, which was at weird times. And then Sunday I basically slept all day.  I don’t think that’s a problem though because I was still suffering from jetlag then.

Lately, things have just been cray cray.  Weird stuff has been happening, stuff I haven’t experienced in my sleep before.

Usually, when I sleep I never remember my dreams or even really feel like I had been dreaming. Lately, I wake up and I know I’ve been dreaming. I still never remember my dreams but I think that’s because every time I wake up, I’m waking up in a panic so the memory of my dream gets pushed away quickly.

In the past, I don’t even really remember waking up in the middle of the night all that often.  Sure, I’d wake up right before my alarm went off, but that is totally different than waking up at 3am and wondering what the hell is happening. It’s not even like there’s an alarm or a noise or some kind of event that occurs to make me wake up in the middle of the night. I just all of a sudden become awake and freak out because I don’t know what’s going on.

For instance, last night, as has been the pattern for the last three or four nights, I wake up at, like, 3am and have absolutely NO idea where the hell I am. I wake up all confused and disoriented and it takes a hot minute to figure out that I’m at home in my own bed, sleeping alone. I don’t really know where I think I am when I wake up all confused, but I know that it’s very disturbing.  I am so confused that I literally sit up and try looking around, and then get out of bed to get my bearings. That’s when I realize, Oh, no, it’s okay. Go back to bed, you’re fine. You’re at home.  On another note, I also am not sure why I start freaking out about why I’m in my bed alone. I wake up in a panic because whoever I think is supposed to be next to me suddenly isn’t anymore.

I’m not even kidding. I spend a good five solid minutes every night, in the middle of the night, trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. And then because I get so worked up, I have to spend another five minutes trying to calm the fuck down and coax myself back to sleep.

I guess I’m just gonna hope for the best and keep my fingers crossed that this behavior eventually just stops and I can resume my normal sleeping behavior.  And quickly.

Please keep your fingers crossed that I can sleep through the night.

Hello blogosphere!

Long time, no see!!

As you may have deduced, I have returned from my trip abroad and made it safely back to the lovely USA. My trip was awesome and amazing and every positive adjective you can imagine and I definitely did not want to come home, but now that I am home, I am definitely glad to be back.

The following things were what I was most excited about coming home to:

  1. Chiefy
  2. My Bed

Yeah, that’s it.

Besides being exhausted and wanting nothing to do with stairs or being awake, I have also been a complete basket case.  The reasons, however, I just don’t feel comfortable sharing with the entire world on the internet, so I apologize for that. I really didn’t need to share that part with you guys, but considering the mess I’ve been, I just haven’t been myself since I’ve been back.

I met some really great people and really, really loved every minute of the trip. It was amazing and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m beyond glad I had the chance to experience everything I did.

Now that I’m back, I have so much to do and getting back to reality kinda blows.

I have so much work still to do for class and it seems like I have a never-ending supply of laundry. I only packed 50 pounds worth of stuff, but I just am struggling to put everything away. I hope I remember how to be in the real world and execute the functions of my job. That will be an adventure tomorrow morning. As will waking up at a normal time in EST.  My body clock is all out of whack and I never have any idea what time it is.

I just wanted to quickly update that I made it back safely and that I hadn’t abandoned my blog for forever.  I’m back and am trying to get back into the swing of things.

🙂

I woke up in the middle of the night and knew that I had pretty much entered hell.

It was hardly a conscious thought, but now, in hindsight, I knew then.

I woke up fully this morning and couldn’t move.

You know that feeling you get when your body hates you and you feel like tiny, angry elves are stabbing you repeatedly in the neck from the inside, trying their hardest to break free and releasing their angry elf fury?

I know you must know that feeling.

When you sleep in your bed in a way that makes your body so upset that your neck just decides to say one giant Fuck You and not work properly.

So today, I have walked around all kinds of unbalanced, had trouble getting dressed, cried because it hurt, had to turn my entire body just to be able to look at something, and sat on the couch with a heating pad tied around my body.

This better go away. And fast.

I have shit to do.

We all know that I’m obsessed with my dog.

A few nights ago, Chiefy climbed up on my bed and we snuggled.

He’s not usually allowed on furniture and I don’t really like when he climbs on my bed because he gets his hair everywhere.  I don’t like that.

The thing is he’s just so damn cute that I can hardly resist.  And he’s a really good snuggler, so I have a hard time saying no.

Then this happened and I couldn’t even be mad that he was lying on my legs and I couldn’t move.

He was completely zonked out and it was seriously adorable.

I couldn’t bring myself to wake him so I did this instead:

Naturally, sniping a picture of his face was a better idea than waking the sleeping baby.

So, now, I’m gonna see if I can entice Chiefy into sleeping in my room tonight. He can even get his fur on my blankets. I’ll try not to hold it against him.

I’m a grump-monster when it comes to being woken up.

With that said, please know that I am fully aware that it’s a dick-move that I enjoy waking other people up when they are sleeping. I really enjoy scaring the hell out of my mom when she’s zonked out. I also enjoy drunk dialing my friends at 4am, knowing full well that they are fast asleep.

Once upon a time, Erica slept on the floor of the dorm room I shared with Sarah.

Erica had been sick and needed to rest. Erica’s roommate had been unsympathetic to her need to sleep in a dark, quiet place.  Her roommate was probably still bitter that we had completely trashed their dorm room one night she been gone and we had been drunk. We also apparently used her special blanket and eaten some of her crackers. Bitch held a grudge.

Nevertheless, Er took up residence on our floor and we stayed in and watched movies and went to bed early. It was lovely.

But sometime after all of us had fallen asleep, there suddenly was a lot of commotion.

I’m not sure what happened because I tried to sleep my way through it. I recall an obnoxious amount of light being turned on and I remember Sarah’s scared voice asking what to do when someone was in the need of contacting 911.

Erica was having trouble breathing. Asthma attack? Panic attack? Even now, I’m not too sure what happened.

I recall throwing LP over my face and trying to block out the light.

Even when Sarah asked me to call 911 while she tried to keep Erica from freaking the fuck out because she was like a thousand degrees and having trouble breathing, I whined and told her I didn’t know how to do it.

No one was particularly pleased with me nor were they grateful we were friends.

Next thing I know, ALL of the lights in our tiny square room were on and there were a couple (is that right??) of EMTs taking Erica’s blood pressure (or something?) and making sure she wasn’t going to die or anything.

As soon as it was over, I went back to sleep like it never happened.

I’m an asshole.

Let’s talk, for a moment, about comfortable silences.

It takes a while to get to that point where you can sit comfortably in silence with another person. Or, perhaps, it’s rare and exciting when you realize you’ve found someone with whom you can share those moments.

It’s fine to talk, talk, talk all the time. It’s fine to share stories and laugh and make jokes to fill the silence. It’s fine to quote movies and constantly have something to talk about.

What’s even better than that constant stimulation is the times when that doesn’t need to happen.

I’m not trying to get at something deeper here. I’m not trying to be cheesy and say something about how the silence somehow indicates a deeper emotional understanding, therefore words are no longer necessary. I just mean that sometimes it’s nice to not have to talk all the time or to be engaging in an activity every second.

I also just really like taking naps.

More and more frequently, Megan and I get together to hang out and then one or both of us ends up just falling asleep.

For example, today I went over to Megan’s house to hang out and watch Date Night because a.) it just came out on DVD, and b.) Megan just had knee surgery so she needs to be taking it easy (despite my offerings to push her down a flight of stairs or “fucking shit up” with hypothetical laser-beam eyes). Shortly after we started the movie, I threw out a disclaimer. I mostly did this because Seneca was with us, and I don’t know how comfortable she is with friend nap-time.

So, like I had anticipated, I of course zonked right out. There were a couple times when Megan tried to wake me because I was missing “the best part” but I mostly slept through the entire movie.

I think this is totally fine because last time we tried to watch a movie (Cop Out), Megan was zonked out hard. Like, out cold. There was no pretending she was “resting her eyes” or just sort of dozing off. She was full-blown sleeping. Right there on the couch.  I guess, in all fairness, I myself dozed off during the movie as well. But at least I made it through it.

The sad part is that that occurrence of watching Cop Out was not our first attempt. Our first attempt was probably a week before that and we both totally fell asleep. Right on my couch. Both of us, opposite ends of the couch, sharing a blanket, we just fell asleep. Then we both kinda woke up and realized we had been sleeping. It was awesome.

There have been other times, too, that something like this has happened, not just in our very recent history. One time I went to hang out in the afternoon and it was raining. We turned on the TV to watch an episode of 48 Hours Mystery (because we love it- and by we I mean I love Lester Holt) and it lulled us right to sleep, with Bubba (her pomeranian) between us on the couch.

Or the time we rented that one George Clooney and Brad Pitt movie… Burn After Reading or something? And I kept falling asleep and she kept telling me I was “doing it again” every time I woke up and tried to pretend I wasn’t sleeping. I was just resting my eyes!

This post makes it seem like all I ever do is watch movies and sleep through them but I promise that’s not true. And if it is true and you’re gonna be all judgy and rude about it, then maybe we shouldn’t be friends.

I want a polar bear!!

I slept like a baby last night. (Why is that an expression? Babies are terrible sleepers. Just ask anyone who has an infant.) (I guess what I’m trying to say is that I slept really, really well last night.)

I think it had something to do with the fact that I didn’t sleep alone, like I had the previous two nights.

Something just wasn’t right the nights before. I missed having someone to hang onto, snuggle up to. But alas, he returned last night and I wasn’t alone anymore.

He’s the perfect sleeping companion; he doesn’t snore or breathe too loud. He doesn’t steal all the covers  or hog the entire bed. He doesn’t kick in the dead of night and give me bruises all over. He doesn’t breathe on my neck and create so much body heat that I feel like I’m in a sweat lodge, ready to die and/or hallucinate. He’s also a complete gentleman (read: he doesn’t grope me or try to make me have sex when I don’t feel like it).

Okay. I know you wanna know who this diamond in the rough is. You’re just dyingggg. Well, my lovelies, I’ll tell you.

LP.

isn't he precious??

LP stands for Little Pillow. He’s little. He’s a pillow. Makes sense.

I took pictures of him with his clothes on, even though Leah likes to make him naked and steal him.  (Or put him in her shirt and pretend her eggo is preggo and let me take glamour shots of it.) Drew likes to take LP away from me and hide him. And punch him so he’s not as fluffy. It breaks my cold, black heart.

the scariest cat ever.

SO. I remembered that I had had to wash him because Stella is evil and was mad at me and peed on my bed two nights ago. Again. Sick. (She is evil and one of those cats that would smother you in your sleep and suck the life right out of you.) That little bitch is nottttt allowed in my room and I curse her existence any time I see her .You would think she’d get the hint… (maybe that’s why she does this to me??) Anyway, despite not actually being peed on, LP was close enough that I was like, listen, buddy, there’s no way. You gotta get yourself cleaned up before you can get close to thissssssss. So I washed him and then forgot about him.  He basically just hung out in the dryer for two days. NBD.

But THEN I remembered that he was indeed in the dryer, all clean and not smelling like cat pee (which, by the way, is the most disgusting smell EVER.) so I went and got him. It was a SQUEEEEE! moment. Reeeeuniiiited and it feeeeeels so gooooood!!! He was the fluffiest I had EVER seen him. It was glorious.

I immediately went to show Drew, who was already in bed, giggling like a little girl to video highlights from the world cup (I don’t understand sports?).

Oh my gawd, Drew, look at LP! He’s so fluuuuuuuffy! Ewe’s not fat, ewe’s just fluffy!

???? *unamused face*

LOOK at him!

What the fuck is wrong with you? And why are you not wearing pants?!

I didn’t respond, I just hugged LP closer. (He was naked. LP was. Not Drew. Thought I’d make the clarification.) Plus, Drew should be used to me not wearing pants at this point in our lives.

Drew held out his hand, like he wanted me to hand over LP.

Dude. I know better. You’re gonna punch him and make him less fluffy. Or you’ll rub your sack on him. Not happening.

I promise I won’t. I just want to see how fluffy he is.

I don’t trust you.

Katie, I promise. Let me see him.

Okay. (I’m retarded.)

Drew squeezed him and punched him several times before I could rip LP from his grip. 😦

just for the sake of comparison. LP is on the left, all cute and tiny. And on the right is a regular sized, fancy pillow. All huge. And not as cute.