Going Inkless

     I feel as if I have lost an awful lot of sleep in the last few years, as if catching up on it all would put me out for months.  Sleep in my teen years was feast or famine.  Which side of the covers I was on was decided by what was spinning in my head at the moment, the phase of the moon, or how much coffee I had consumed that day.  It was nothing at all for me to stay up all night writing, down in the basement bedroom I shared with my older sister (then, later with my next youngest.)  I might read long hours into the night as the rest of the house slept if the mood struck me.  On the other hand, each Sunday was chiefly divided between sleeping until about 1 pm and doing my laundry (which later sat in piles-sometimes folded- at the foot of my bed until they found their way into the hamper again.)  Except for the commitment of school, my time was mostly my own, flexible enough that I could stay up or sleep in as fit my mood or creative cyc...

     I dreamt I was in bed one morning, lying awake, trying to get the last few minutes of rest before the alarm would ring.  Lists of what I would do for the day came rushing up.  They compiled themselves in steady ticks like an old printer spitting out one line, then another.  Still, I determined to stay prone, squeezing out every moment to which I was entitled.  I planned to hit the snooze alarm when the clock would blare.  I calculated the number of minutes that would buy me, the number it would leave me on the other side of the morning- how long I would have to get ready for work, and what I could do to compress the necessary tasks into the new timeframe.  I knew I wouldn't sleep anymore, but I was stubborn and wouldn't compromise the sleep time even if I wasn't using it for the intended purpose.  But I was.  Sleeping.  Sleeping and dreaming of not sleeping and wishing I was sleeping.      Sleep deprivatio...

I open one eye to peek again at the glowing green digits. 1:30. Mental calculations follow. How long have I been trying; How long before I have to rise; How long since the last time I checked the clock? I could think of a hundred interesting reasons to be awake all night, and none of them include lying in bed tossing and turning...well, maybe one of them, but that's not the case tonight. Insomnia creeps up on me like this every once in a while, giving little indication early in the evening. I'll head for bed sleepy, ready to sink into dreams, and end up floating just on the surface. Hours pass with no change except a periodic shift in position and a mounting frustration at the slow crawl toward morning responsibilities. Of course, I recognize that frustration robs me of the rest I sorely need, but calm is not easy to come by as the night ebbs away. I try all the tricks: counting, telling myself stories, breathing exercises, a little midnight snack or short warm shower,...