I have been keeping a spare room. Daughters have slept in it, mother and friends. It’s been good. I’ve kept the animals out of it because not everyone can sleep with a stack of furry bodies. But no longer. Youngest daughter has moved back in and it is now her room. Where will I sort my towels?
There’s been me and three dogs and three cats for the last six months. While what precipitated this alone time was heart-breaking, I have been happy living by myself with my Fluffy Floozies (ergo, ‘fluffy floozies’ collective description for said furry peeps). Now I have to share again.
Oh, I want to, happy to do it, more than happy. It’s just confronting. It’s been 30 years since I lived alone and as a young woman, didn’t do so well. As myself now, did absolutely fine, better than fine. Who knew? It’s been a revelation that I can live happily by myself. I hope it’s equally a revelation that can live with my youngster again.
So, no spare room for awhile. Day trips are us for the rest of the family. Sharing a bathroom again. Ugh. Oh well, I’m thrilled to have her here, we will see what the future brings.
Here I am, sitting at my desk at a time of morning I am normally just waking up. I am not enamoured of early morning sounds or light. I admit I have been in times past but I would rather be asleep. I am determinately an owl.
I have always had difficulty in going to bed early. I still have difficultly in going to bed early. I never want to go to bed early or even at a reasonable time. If I have lights out before midnight, it is a surprise. I still have to get up to go to work and really need a nap in the afternoon (not always possible at work, though it is amazing how much I can type with my eyes closed). I seem to function on a certain level of sleep deprivation. Yet, can I make myself go to bed earlier? Nope.
I have good intentions but there is always one more thing to draw, another game to play, one more episode to watch. It’s never, oh I’ll just get these dishes done or I’ll get this floor mopped now. Which would be bizarre but interesting at midnight. No, it’s always play.
Then I go to bed and read. Eventually when I cannot focus on the words any longer, I relax into sleep. Such good habits, if only two hours earlier.
I am completely baffled as to why my good intentions for a proper night sleep are never met. I suspect I never mean to. I often give myself a good pep talk (about everything really) to get myself to bed earlier and then still crawl into bed at midnight. I’m 53, it’s a long standing habit. I reckon I’ll still be doing it when I’m 83.
This year I am giving up insisting that I go to bed earlier. I’m going to let me stay up as late as I want. (That never worked with kids, I doubt it will work with me.) I’m still going to do it though. Stop giving myself a hard time about staying up late. See what happens.