These
past few weeks, I’ve slept like a drugged woman. That hardcore, REM-heavy sleep.
Is it the reduced caffeine intake? Is my thyroid back on strike? Has someone
been slipping sedatives into my jasmine tea?
I’m
pretty sure the insomnia/hyposomnia will return, at least on a freelance schedule.
Part of me misses it very much. Contrary to what the experts and their studies may
suggest, the extra sleep has not curbed my appetite, nor has it improved my
attention span, complexion, or creative juices. If anything, I’m more apathetic
about what anyone says or does, and apathy is one of the worst attributes out
there. An apathetic person is as atrocious as that person who constantly plays
the role of devil’s advocate. (You know the type: You
and your party will be seated around a table. When someone mentions Shaker
Heights, Ohio or Newton, Massachusetts, you’ll say that everyone has an ex or an
old family friend or a former roommate from Shaker Heights or Newton. Six out
of the seven others will nod or chuckle on cue – until the Menace-to-the-Merriment
suddenly says, “I’ve never known
anyone from Shaker Heights or Newton,” in a hella self-righteous or put-out tone.)
REM sleep brings out the big dreams. In
my waking life I’m more of a doer than a dreamer, which could be why I look
down on sleep-mode dreams, good or bad. It’s obvious why the bad dreams suck.
With the good dreams, when I wake up, I’m sad they weren’t real. This week,
I’ve had nerve-wracking dreams about several specific people and situations. I
minored in psych and have taken a dream-interpretation pseudo-seminar, so I generally
understand what they mean. I half-wish I didn’t.
I also recently dreamed about getting an
insane amount of backlash for wearing the suede clogs I haven’t worn since the
late ‘90s, but have considered adding to my hostesswear collection this fall. Years
ago, I had a dream about a co-worker of mine going on an assault-rifle rampage during
a staff meeting. The next day, there was an office shooting in St. Louis. That’s
why I’m now more cautious about putting on the clogs.
Since you've been traveling for a few weeks, is it possible that the "drugged" sleep is simply the exhaustion following intense activity and emotion related to being in a different culture and having to walk much more than usual. And then there's that thing of trying to function in a language not your own...torture, sometimes. It probably won't be long before you are back to your normal self.
ReplyDeleteI have a pair of clogs that I haven't worn in years. It makes me about 6"4" and I scare people. Maybe I shouldn't wear them...but I don't own any firearms......hmmmmmm.. what to do....what to do......pizza and beer with mindless t.v.!
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