My haunted clock and other things that wake me up at 2am

I’m no stranger to burning the midnight oil. As I know we’ve discussed, I used to be a card carrying night owl (and still can be given the right motivation which cannot, I repeat cannot, include my pj’s because once those come out, all bets are off.), but in the last few years I’ve slowly transitioned into what is commonly referred to as a morning personv(Oh the horror!).

Of course then there are days like today (yup, I’m writing this at 4am with an hour and a half of day already under my belt), that my body takes this “being a morning person” thing too far. Did I mention the 2:30 wake up? Oh, no? In my state of tire, I must have forgotten. However, I’m up and my brain is working at a pace that is too fast for 4am, but too slow for real thoughts to be worth anything, so I bring you my list of things that wake me up…

1. My haunted clock. It never fails. Seriously, it was quieter than a cemetery all day yesterday, but did it miss the 2:45 chime? Nope. Why? Because even though my clock is freakishly haunted, it likes me to know that I’m not alone at the wee hours of the morning when normal people are sleeping. So yeah, she and I have been marking the 15 minute intervals since 2:45. Funny thing is, I spent my childhood sleeping through this clock before it was haunted and stubborn about when it felt like chiming… Ah, how the times change…  See what I did there? Clock. Times. Note to self, my sense of humor might still be snoring…

2-Ron. Not only is he a bonafide cover hog (as in every time he rolls over he takes more cover with him), he’s taken to talking in his sleep. Now, I’m the first to admit that if you talk to me as I’m drifting off to sleep, I can hold a perfectly grand conversation with you and not remember it in the morning, but this is different. This is middle of the night, I just rolled over and stole your covers, and now I’m gonna gloat about it kind of talking–only it sounds like gibberish to me. It could be I’ve listened to too much loud music over the years and no longer hear as well as I once did, but whatevs. See, if it was all “how do I love thee?” stuff, that’d be cool, but this is more “haha, your covers are mine,” which is not cool. Until it is because it’s winter and now I have no covers.

3-I’m cold. Now this can refer back to #2 since Ron steals my covers ALL THE TIME, but it’s also due to my body and I being at war over what should be considered “normal.” So here’s the deal, when I get cold and my muscles decide to act like rebellious children and run amuck. As in, shivering begets something that almost looks like full on tremors which my muscles decides means should be cramping (as in I just ran a marathon without ever warming up or practicing) which gets annoyingly painful. Oh, and sleep erasing. Because have you ever woken up with a charlie horse in your leg, foot, arm, anything? Imagine a full body charlie horse and now you get what I’m talking about.  I’ve been known to keep a separate twin sized blanket on my half of the bed so that when Ron inevitably steals my covers, I still have something cozy and warm, but I’m pretty sure it’s buried in my closet which didn’t help me tonight in the least. So instead, I added insult to injury and attempted to reclaim my covers from iron grip Ron and make my shoulder ache too. Fun times.

4-My brain. My brain likes to  think of something really cool that should go in that book I’m writing in the middle of the night. Translation: My muse has a damn sick sense of humor. Case in point, last night was working on Novella 3 aka Revealed and had a “SQUIRREL!” kind of moment while IM’ing (is that still a thing or am I totally dating myself here?) the amazing Reagan Phillips about a potential joint venture. Of course my brain was all, OMG, I TOTALLY have an idea for a short I’ve been tossing around that is PERFECT for that. Must write the first few thoughts down now. (Being creative can be tiring I tell you.) So not to piss off said vindictive muse, I jotted down a few notes/lines and then my eyes decided they were too tired to look at my laptop any longer and they turned on a repeat of Brooklyn 99. And I promptly fell asleep muttering about how much I love Terry Crews. But seriously, who doesn’t? Right?

5-Max. I love my dog. I waited 14 long years to get him( which means I wore Ron down after 14 years. Although now that I think about it, it may have been more of him giving my dying mom something she wanted too). I may have dreamed about Max longer than I dreamed about having my children–Ron will vouch for this, just ask him-oh, wait he’s over here stealing my covers and muttering something. But Max (who brings himself to bed at 10, but not a moment before unless I call him sooner) has itchy skin. We know he’s allergic to a bunch of food stuff, but we’re pretty sure that, like the majority of us living in this house, he’s allergic to “outside.” Unlike the rest of us, he doesn’t take a daily dose of allergy meds. (Maybe he should?) So sometimes at like 2:30 in the morning,  I wake up to the sounds of him chewing on himself alternating with scratching. Have you ever listened to a 65 pound dog scratch and shake? It’s not quiet. Typically I can shush him and we both roll over and doze back off, but not tonight.  Yup, he was my first reason for waking up at 2:30 this morning.

6-The kids. I love those little people, but I also love my sleep. Not only does sleep make my body feel less like a ninety year old woman, but it’s also like the universe’s way of saying, “Way to go Jeni. Good job keeping everyone in your house alive today. Why don’t you take a few hours off.” To which I’m all sleepy-talking, “Aww, Universe you say the damned sexiest things,” as I nod off into the sleepy abyss that awaits. But since they were little (and I mean before a year old for both-I do know how lucky I am with this BTW’s), my kids have slept through the night unless they were sick, had a nightmare, or had to use the bathroom. If you haven’t gathered by now, I can be a bit of a light sleeper. Thankfully, if it’s just a potty run, I’m back counting Alexander Skarsgards in no time. The good news is so far this morning, I haven’t heard from either kiddo, so the first 5 have just been an inconvenient trifecta (although doesn’t that refer to 3 things and not 5? I don’t know- please forgive my sleepy brain.)

Damn clock just chimed again. Looks like it’s a little ahead of schedule.  Or it’s now taken to mocking me at odd times too. That might be it. So tell me, what keeps you up at night? And how do you get back to sleep?

 

Posted in Random, Randomness is like awesomeness only more random and tagged , , , .

2 Comments

  1. You poor thing! But at least you write really funny and coherent blog posts in the middle of the night. That’s a talent. 🙂 And for the record, you seemed super alert today, even without any sleep. I wish you many zzz’s tonight.

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