Tales of an Insomniac

I thought I was tired.  Drowsy.  Sleepy.  So I went to bed at the same time as The Husband, a rarity for a couple comprised of one night owl and one morning person.  We laid in bed chatting for a bit and watched my belly move and shake as the little critter inside kicked and squirmed, doing its best to get comfy its ever-shrinking enclosure.  After a while, The Husband dozed off, leaving me wide awake and wondering where my drowsiness went.  So I picked up my Kindle and started to read.  Normally, reading is a reliable part of my bedtime routine.  A surefire way to distract my brain from the next day’s To-Do list and ease the transition into dreamland.  Half an hour went by.  Then another half hour.  Then another.  As enthralled as I was by my current book, I decided it was time to try a new tactic.  I’d watch TV in the living room.  Yet another way to distract my brain and let it turn to mush as I awaited the Sandman.

But at 1am, there aren’t many good options besides infomercials and random reruns of weird shows.  And then, a beautiful thing happened.  I found a Friends marathon.  So with the company of Joey, Chandler, Ross, Rachel, Monica, and Phoebe, I grabbed a blanket, turned off the living room lights, and settled in on the couch.  About half-way through the episode, I realized that particular one originally aired about 20 years ago.  I also realized I actually remember watching it on TV as a new Friends episode way back when.  I loved that show when I was younger and watched it faithfully.  I had visions of moving to NYC, hanging out with my friends in a cool coffee shop, and navigating life as an independent adult.  And then I realized that the time difference between when I first watched that episode and now -20 years- was approximately the same as when I was a wee child of the 80s watching old reruns of The Brady Bunch and Gilligan’s Island that originally aired in the late 60s.  And then I felt old.  These are the thoughts my brain conjures up when it should be dreaming.

After a few episodes, I decided it was time to attempt sleep again.  But first, a bathroom break.  Because when you’re 39 weeks pregnant, you need a lot of bathroom breaks, especially right before bed.  I didn’t want to turn on the lights lest the brightness wake me even more.  It had been one of the hottest days of the year so far and the bathroom window was still cracked open just a few inches.  There was enough of a golden glow coming through the frosted glass window from the street lamps outside so it wasn’t completely dark.  I just happened to peak out the window, curious for a glimpse of the urban skyline at night, and saw a thick layer of fog blanketing the northern part of the city.  It was almost mesmerizing the way it separated the city below from the night sky above.  Soft and white like freshly spun cotton candy, Karl the Fog encompassed both humble homes and towering skyscrapers alike.  I had to take a picture.  Just one.  I’m sure the fog looks like that on many nights but I don’t gaze out my bathroom window at 2am often enough to know for sure.

san francisco at night

After that, I headed back to bed, ready to snuggle in and attempt sleep once again.  As I was slowly drifting off, lingering between wakefulness and dreamland, I heard one of the piggies rustling through their hay pile.  Normally they’re both happily asleep at this point, but not tonight.  Guess I’m not the only one battling insomnia these days.





  1. Awesome picture!

  2. I can definitely appreciate this post! There isn't a whole lot of sleeping happening at my house these days -- and even when I'm able to lay down and "rest," I have a hard time shutting my brain off. (And ignoring all of Oliver's little whimpers from his bassinet, even when I know -- intellectually -- that he's perfectly fine.)


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