For the first time in months, I’m inhaling a large mug of coffee at my desk instead of tea.
This is because I had the nerve to somehow get 4 1/2 hours of sleep last night instead of the usual 3, and if there’s one thing my body hates, it’s when I try and do something nice for it like give it an extra hour and a half to rest and recuperate. So of course now instead of feeling refreshed I’m actually more tired, because reasons, and coffee is the only thing keeping me from passing right out on my keyboard and getting an ‘i’ in my eye.
I’m also currently on the tail end of a nasty two week illness that I can only describe as some kind of unholy viral cold-flu-gastroenteritis ménage à trois, and the fear that any particularly forceful cough might cause me to accidentally shit myself is still very real and present.
Speaking of shit, Madam Rorschach is up to her old antics again (after a lengthy and much appreciated stretch of hibernation) and has resumed laying waste to the office restroom as though she’s in competition with the US election over who can make the world a less pleasant place to live in. Her timing is impeccable, since between the plague ménage and that old bitch Aunt Flo showing her ugly face in town this past week, this Nut has had ample need to visit the workplace commode and then some.
Finally, in the First World Problems category of suck, it appears that my favorite suede boots in the whole wide world have finally reached a state of shabbiness I can’t ignore – despite my best efforts at denial – and will have to be sent off to live on a farm. So today is their last hurrah; one final day of clackety-clacking around town with me before we part ways forever.
TL;DR: I’m beyond tired, multiple things are shitty, and my most beloved boots have one foot in the grave.
So naturally, I’m…elated?
It started Wednesday. I found myself grinning out of nowhere, for no other reason I can think of except that I was alive.
And even though Wednesdays are the day that the Boss Lady comes in to pick apart my weekly reports and throw all our company policies into a tumult in her efforts to make things more efficient around here, I still left the office wearing that same stupid grin, and it’s yet to waver for so much as a second.
I honestly can’t remember the last time I was this happy ‘just because’. It feels almost ridiculous, in the best possible way. All the little things I habitually take inventory of to remind myself that life is worth living have suddenly been amplified to Giant Heaps of Amazeballs level awesome, practically throwing themselves in my path to the extent that it’s only a matter of time before I convert to Orthodox Disney and just start spontaneously bursting out into song.
I don’t know how long this will last or what convinced the storm clouds in my brain to suddenly part and offer up this glittering ray of sunshine, but thank you. Thank you for the light.
HOW ON EARTH do you survive on three hours of sleep a night? I read that one and my jaw literally dropped in horror. I’m a nine hour of sleep a night person. Anything less and I’m miserable. I’m sorry to hear about your sickness and your boots and Madame Rorschach (was that who you described? I need to scroll back up and click on the link to find out what we’re dealing with, here.) But, I love those times in life where you feel so utterly happy, even if you have a lot of reasons not to. It’s a really great feeling! I hope it keeps up. 🙂
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I hope so too!
I have no idea what the rhyme or reason is with the sleep thing, only that three hours seems to be the magic number. I’ve otherwise kind of just given up trying to apply logic to my body’s goings-on at this point.
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Orthodox Disney sounds awesome. Do you have any pamphlets? Is there a Progressive option? I’m assuming I can still keep most of my holidays, based on the number of Disney specials devoted to them, so that’s all fine… are there park discounts for True Believers?
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That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Sadly, though, even in the Magic Kingdom the power of song has yet to be accepted as a form of currency.
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YAYY! Unexplained happiness! Maybe a unicorn flew by and peed rainbows in your tea?
And I’m with Schnitty about the sleep thing – I should get 7.5 or 8 but I’ve been routinely getting only 6 because I am a nightowl who forgets EVERY NIGHT what it’s like to wake up still tired in the morning. But 3… only a Time Lord can fully function on that much shuteye.
Have you visited a sleep clinic? Maybe they could help?
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I’ve considered the sleep clinic thing, but when it really comes down to it I kind of can’t be bothered. I’m actually kind of grateful to be able to function so well on 3 hours; life is already passing by at a terrifying rate and if I can get away with spending less of it unconscious, so much the better.
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I remember getting by on less than 5 hours of sleep for over a year and while I could function, it drastically reduced my concentration, memory, energy levels and general health. My depression came back too. And I’ve read that long-term sleep deprivation can lead to increased likelihood of serious conditions like high blood pressure, heart disease and stroke too. When you think about it sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture… and can lead to temporary psychosis. I know I’ve been close a few times! Your body NEEDS enough sleep in order to repair and renew itself. Why not give it a go? xxx
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*shrugs* Honestly it’s just really not a priority for me at the moment.
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Sometimes that’s life–plateaus of “whatever” broken up by little peaks of joy. I take them when I can. As for boots, I hate it when I lose a good pair of footwear. A decent burial in the garden with a few solemn words is never inappropriate.
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I’m going shopping for a new pair this weekend. So far my online searches have not been that promising…why must 90% of what’s currently out there be over-the-knee styles?
Maybe I’m old fashioned but I can’t help but associate over-the-knee boots with Julia Roberts’ profession from Pretty Woman, and that’s not quite the vibe I want to give off.
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I tried a pair that were like mid thigh on me–Ken liked them but I was not feeling hooker-y!
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Pingback: Orange eternal. | Spoken Like A True Nut
Sometimes life gives us lemons and we make margaritas. Maybe it’s best not to question why it happens.
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Mmm…lemon-ritas.
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