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0318 MARCH
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in every issue t h e l a s t wo r d chasing
sleep
: the elusive dream by lisa a. beach r emember back in your teens, when you?d
sleep
until noon, clocking in a solid 11 or 12 hours of beautifully uninterrupted zzzzzs only waking up in time to eat lunch? fast-forward to middle age, where
sleep
eludes you. for me, such a night begins innocently enough as i head to bed around 11 p.m. i set my alarm for 6:15 a.m., hop into bed, and look forward to dozing off quickly. fool.
sleep
does not come quickly to me in middle age. instead, i pursue it at a tediously slow speed, hyper-aware of every passing second. annoyingly, a continual cavalcade of trivial
thoughts
persistently plods by, like rush hour traffic. i?m so tired! i hope i fall
a
sleep
soon. i?ve got to take parker to school early tomorrow. oh, shoot, i forgot to pack his lunch. i?ll make a quick sandwich in the morning and throw a piece of fruit in his lunchbox. did i buy apples this week? that reminds me, i need to pick up more milk. i should probably stop at the store tomorrow. tomorrow is tuesday, right? ooh, it?s taco tuesday at tijuana flats. they?ve got the best tacos! where did i just see a great recipe for tacos? was it emeril?s segment on good morning america? speaking of gma, lara spencer was so funny the other day when she was dancing in her chair at the news desk. she seems like she would be so fun to hang out with. why don?t i hang out with anyone like that? i really need to broaden my circle of friends. and on and on it goes, as i succumb to a stream-of-consciousness mindset that would make walter mitty proud, with each stupid thought transitioning to the next. and before i know it . . . crap, it?s 2:18 a.m. already. i can?t believe i?m not
a
sleep
yet. i have to get up in four hours! stop thinking! just stop it right this second. no
thoughts
. no
thoughts
. no
thoughts
. in the dark, i look over at my husband kevin, who is fast
a
sleep
. it?s now 3:27 a.m. why can?t i just shut my brain off? kevin is so lucky. he can fall
a
sleep
in under two minutes. listen to him, with his steady breathing. inhale. exhale. inhale. exhale. is he purposely taunting me with his rhythmic breathing? it?s 4:46 a.m. the night drags on, as random
thoughts
continue to march incessantly across my brain. it?s like
sleep
is flipping me the middle finger. but finally, i start to dri? off when . . . thud. what was that? was it the cat? no, he?s
sleep
ing on my feet. it was probably just parker banging his leg on the wall again when he rolled over. but what if it wasn?t? should i check? eyes wide open now. i listen acutely for more thuds or feet shuffling or creaks on the floorboards. but nothing. i look at the clock again?5:02 a.m. i?m at that critical juncture? should i just get up for the day, knowing it will take me forever to fall back
a
sleep
only to have my alarm go off soon anyway? but it?s only 5:02 a.m.! i am not getting up out of spite. take that,
sleep
less night! so, i lay there for an hour, asserting my
sleep
y free will and refusing to get out of bed. somehow, this makes me feel in control of this midlife
sleep
less cycle that i?m caught up in. i?ve given up on my dream of
sleep
ing through the night like a teen anymore. ? 9 2 b r p a r e n t s . c o m | m a r c h 2 0 1 8
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