I was awakened by Jenny crying in the stairwell shortly after 1:00am this morning. I called to her and she came running to hop on the bed with me. I was worried she might be sick or in pain because she was acting strange... making squeaks and moving around like she couldn’t get comfortable. I was genuinely concerned that I was going to end up with an emergency trip to the vet. But was also thinking that she might have just woke herself up with a nightmare or something. Poor thing...
A half hour later, she finally settled down and went to sleep...
That's when I noticed that Jake was still there sleeping (along with Mufasa, which I had found for him earlier)...
According to my Apple Watch, I fell asleep at 2:10am. But then got woken up again at 2:52 by Jenny puking her guts out. Jake ran off (and who could blame him?) and I resisted the urge to talk to her or pet her, because I didn't want her to vomit running and give me more to clean up. After she had puked up a gallon, she too ran off. Leaving me with having to strip the bed and clean up.
When I went downstairs to the laundry room, I saw that both cats were relaxing on their heating pads. Jenny didn't seem to be in any pain when I pressed around trying to see if there was anything wrong, but it's hard not to worry...
After grabbing a couple blankets to put on my bed, I tried to fall asleep, but didn't have any luck. I kept sneaking downstairs to check on Jenny and make sure she was still okay. After I tossed the bedding in the dryer, I gave up trying to sleep and read until it was time to feed the cats their breakfast. Jenny looked okay, but seemed a little unsteady. I was glad I could stay home the weekend to keep an eye on her.
After returning from buying lumber, I thought I'd try to take a nap. Jenny was all... What happened to the blanket? And I was all... You puked like A GALLON of vomit on it last night, so it had to be wiped off and put in the wash. 3 or 4 times. Then THIS blanket will have to be washed then the sheets then the mattress protector. So thanks for that! And Jenny was all... No problem! I know you washed everything last Wednesday, but I prefer twice a week bedding washes instead of weekly anyway!
When I fell asleep, Jenny was with me. But when I woke up, Jake was there...
When night came, I thought I had better get the bed ready...
ME: "Jenny, I know you think you're being all adorable by refusing to move off the bed while I'm trying to make it... but I assure you that you are not."
ALSO ME: "Awwww! Who am I kidding? Who cares that you were the one who puked all over the bed at 2:52am so I had to wash everything again after just three days? Who's the prettiest girl? Who's the prettiest girl?"
JENNY: "Do you want me to puke on this shit again tonight? No? Might want to hold that embarrassing (but wholly accurate) talk."
I keep bringing in bedding. She moved. But in top of the sheets. For comfort, I'd imagine...
I pulled the sheets to fit them and she jumps off. Then stares at me with murder in her eyes...
Guess I’m forgiven though...
So, yeah. Quite a night. Hopefully it won't be repeated tonight.
I've never had an easy time getting eight hours of sleep each night. But, then again, it's never been a huge problem for me. I'm always fully alert and active throughout the day. What changes, seemingly at random, is how early into the evening I run out of juice. And then I got an Apple Watch and finally understood why that is.
I learned fairly quickly that how much sleep I'm getting (or not gettings) isn't what's important. It's how much deep sleep that I'm getting. If I get nine hours of sleep... ten hours even... it doesn't mean anything if I get under three hours of deep sleep. I'll be a wreck the next morning, get through the day okay, then have zero energy for anything except vegging out on the couch all night. On the other hand if I get four hours of deep sleep, I will be fully rested and have a full day of energy even if that's all the sleep I get.
For the past six months I did an analysis of what I eat, how much I eat, and when I eat it. I also kept track of how much deep sleep I got. The results were interesting.
Turns out that, for me, there's a simple checklist that gets me the best possible deep sleep...
If I stick to that schedule I'm usually asleep between 10:30 and 11:00, and wake up between 5:30 and 6:00. This usually results in six-and-a-half to seven hours of sleep with four hours of deep sleep. And that's my happy place for being well-rested.
Last night, for example, I was in bed by 10:30. Turned the lights off at 11:00. Fell asleep at 11:33. Woke up at 5:46. This got me 6 hours and 13 minutes of sleep. But 4 hours and 21 minutes of that was deep sleep, so I was absolutely golden all day long.
All this time all I need to do was to not worry about whether or not I was getting 8 hours of sleep and shift my eating to earlier in the day. Simple.
And do you know what happens if I stay up late drinking or eat dinner too late or have too big of a meal or drink caffeine after 1:00? If I'm lucky I'll get three hours of deep sleep. But usually one or more of those factors will result in my getting less than three.
And there you have it.
Took me 30 years to get here, but at least I've finally arrived.
I think I'm dead.
Or, at the very least, dying.
So you'll have to excuse me not feeling like blogging tonight. I'm going to go to bed so I can die in peace.
EXPECT ME TO RISE FROM THE DEAD TOMORROW FOR THE LATEST APPLE EVENT! NO RESPECTABLE APPLE WHORE STAYS DEAD WHEN TIM COOK TAKES THE STAGE!
I've been having a terrible time sleeping lately. Last night I went to bed early at 10:00pm, but my watch shows that I didn't fall asleep until after midnight. Which means that I essentially laid awake for two hours with my mind racing. In other words, it's a day ending in "Y," and when I rolled out of bed at my usual 5:30am I felt like half my brain was missing.
I honestly don't think it's too must to ask that I get eight hours of sleep each night. Or even seven. Heck, over the past four months I'd settle for six. Instead it's been between four and five hours, which is simply not enough. I feel like a zombie all day long. Though I'm surprisingly able to function just fine and get all my work completed without issue. But it's like I'm on auto-pilot instead of being invested. And it's tough to enjoy life that way.
I thought I might be able to supplement my sleepy-time with naps, but that's proven equally impossible. For whatever reason I can't sleep during the day no matter how tired I am.
I guess it's time that I have a sleep study done again?
I dunno. The last time I paid for one and nothing really came out of it.
But at least I could say that I tried something.
I have to be up at 5:00am so I can drive three hours to be at my work-site. It just turned 9:00pm and I have at least three hours of work left to get through... probably closer to four. Add an hour spent trying to fall asleep. Which leaves three hours to actually sleep. Which would only make me too tired to drive. Which means I'll just skip getting any rest tonight.
Looking forward to the day I have time to be put into a medically-induced coma so I can get caught up on all this sleep I've been missing.
My brain feels mooshy.
Which would be a lot more fun if it was alcohol induced instead of exhaustion.
I was supposed to drive to Spokane tonight, but Fate intervened and moved my work a day forward.I don't know if I'm supposed to repay this kindness by sacrificing a goat or what, but I sure am grateful.
A night of sleeping-pill-induced slumber awaits.
I woke up at 4:30 this morning because I had work that needed to get done. It was an unavoidable consequence of all the technical difficulties that plagued me yesterday. Needless to say, it made for a very long day today.
Now that it's over and it's pushing midnight, all I want to do is sleep.
Or maybe write a blog entry.
Nah, I wanna sleep...
So if you will excuse me, I am going to crawl into a box of Advil PM and pass out now.
Be vewy vewy quiet...
Okay then! I got up at 4:00am yesterday so I could get to work on time... it's now almost 10:00pm a day-and-a-half later... that's 42 hours awake. I might have dozed off a couple times, but it didn't amount to any real sleep. That's tough, because even total insomniacs like myself require rest from time to time.
I never could have made it without the distraction of Twitter to keep me from giving up. Whether it was comparing notes of sleeplessness with @TheMuskrat or joking around about Twitter spam with @AnissaMayhew, it was pretty sweet that I was able to find Twitter peeps out there willing to help me stay awake.
Other than an incident where Jesus appeared to me in a bowl of Apple Jacks cereal, I managed to make it through the 42 sleep-deprived hours with my brain pretty much intact.
I now have 8 hours until I have to pack up my stuff and head back to the airport. I'm hoping a good chunk of that will be spent catching up on sleep, but I'm doubtful.
For reasons I can't even guess, I'm not at all tired.
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