Sleep? Well, yeah. But...

I'm going to try and write this from work. Good thing I don't get paid for this, lol...

So went to bed late (for me. at work.) at around 11 PM. Up at midnight for a call.
Up at 1, just because.
Up at 2, same reason.
Up at 3, God knows why.
Up at 4, for a call. I'm up for keeps now. Coffee brewed, got my first cup by my side and half gone already. A mere 2.5 hours and I can head home. But in the mean-time, I'm pounding away here and listening to sports talk radio. I don't really know why either, cause this time of night seems to bring out more than it's fair share of knuckleheads. But I digress...

I don't really know why I don't sleep well, I really don't. I think loss has a lot to do with it, I used to think it had EVERY thing to do with it. But as I've stopped and looked back over my sleep patterns over the years, I'm not convinced. I think it has contributed, but it isn't the only reason.

The Blond Child's Mother couldn't sleep after the crash. Guilt prevented that. She felt guilt over being asleep instead of waiting up for her to come home. She felt guilt over not going shopping with her that night. And, knowing the crash occurred at 10 PM impeded her sleep. I got all that, it made sense to me.

And for the longest time after the Blond Child's Mother died, I had trouble sleeping.

Had trouble falling asleep.

Had trouble staying asleep.

Would get out of bed at 3, 4 or 5 AM and go downstairs to make coffee and watch tv cause I was tired of laying in bed, wide awake.

I figured that this was just the way it was. And I needed to get used to it.

But, after a few years, I started to think about it. And actually, I started to realize, that my crappy sleep patterns started before any of that stuff.

And I can't really pin it on anything.

I wish I could. Then, I could fix it. Well, maybe.

Loss? maybe a little. Old age? sure, why not. Too much food/drink too late at night? ok. You get the idea? I've got a smorgasbord of reasons from which to choose. And I think they've all got a little to do with it. But I don't know how to fix it.

So instead, I sit here drinking coffee (nectar of the gods), counting down the minutes (122) til I can go home.

Maybe I can sneak in a nap...