There are some things I just can't figure out. A whole lot of them. And most of them are about me and the way I operate.
If you know, for example, that the way you are currently functioning just isn't really working to your advantage you'd change the way you're currently functioning, wouldn't you? Well, of course! Unless, of course, you're nuts.
Anyway, take this sleep thing I've been going through lately. Any of you who read this (I love that when I write that in the back of my head I'm thinking, "That's right, the three or four of you who read this thing, you know who you are, I could pretty much just address this to you guys!) and follow my Facebook status changes will know I've been having a little trouble sleeping lately. For the past few weeks, I have no problem whatsoever getting to sleep. It's the staying asleep that's a bitch. Can I use bad words in my blog? Heck, I think they even use that word in primetime TV. Anyone else remember when they couldn't even say "damn," not even after 9 p.m. on a racy show like Three's Company? Yes, I'm that old.
So what happens is that I go to sleep when the kid does (because yes, she's sleeping with me, and yes, at some point I'll address that issue). Usually even before she does, because the stories and the playing with dollies knocks me out before it does her and she's usually mad I can't do one more story or make Chuckie and Tommy from Rugrats talk some more about whatever (she always gets to be Angelica, which should worry me, because Angelica's a little mean, but I guess I'll just keep an eye on her). Oh, and by the way, I love that she's loving playing with dolls that were originally for my stepdaughter from about a hundred years ago, and that she loves to watch the videocassette of The Rugrats Movie over and over again. Talk about getting your money's worth - I don't even think that video was purchased for full price, because I think that's from back when her father was working at Blockbuster. But oh boy, I way, way, way digress.
So I get to sleep before 10 usually, work or weekend night. Invariably around 2 or 3 a.m., nature calls. Now this has always been an issue for me. I'm usually drinking water right up until when it's time to go to bed. So there's the first thing I could change - perhaps curtail my liquid intake and not have to wake up in the middle of the night to pee! Seriously? Is this even possible? That seems so far-fetched I doubt I'll even check out that theory, but who knows.
Normally after I take care of business, I get back in bed and go right back to sleep. Or maybe it takes 5 or 10 minutes, but that's about it. But the past few weeks it's not working that way. For some reason, my brain wants to race. And race. And think about business that has to be taken care of, bills that need to be paid, checkbooks that need to be balanced, boxes that need to be unpacked. So there's all that run of the mill stuff. Then there's the Big Picture sort of stuff. What is something happens to my baby daddy, do I have to pay for a funeral since he has no life insurance (because we're still legally married)? What happens to my kid if I die? Why haven't I written a will? What if something happens to my mom? What if this economy never gets any better? What if the City of Pinole decides to have the Sheriff's Office handle the dispatching? What the hell else would I do to make this kind of money with my English degree? Why did I not finish my master's degree when I was this close and look at all that time and money down the drain because I waited so long and now I'd have to start all over again?
Oh, and it gets better: Why will I not stop eating so much when I know I don't like the way it makes me look or feel? Am I cruising toward a heart attack at 40? Why isn't the fact that I want to be healthy for my beautiful angel enough to make me live healthy? Why is that one week I can hit the gym every day, and the next week seem to forget I belong to a gym?
And the kicker: What if anything ever happened to my darling girl? Of course, that's the one I hate the most. Having the majority of my happiness eggs in this one beautiful basket, and wishing that I could be with her every minute of every day to somehow make sure she stays safe and healthy. Any mom will agree with me. It's scary. And it's a matter of luck, sometimes, and it all comes down to life being random and I hate the randomness of life.
So of course, I cannot do anything about the things that might happen. But obviously, it makes no sense to worry about things that might happen. Will writing this down and putting it out there for everyone to see make me do it less? Gosh, I hope so.
But look at all that other stuff I tweak about. All that other stuff I could change. How about the checkbook, for example? Yes, I can hop online and make sure I have money and at any given time I think I have a pretty good idea of what I've got in the bank. But ever since I became a one-income family, I've wanted to bury my head in the sand about some things, and this has been one of them. I know it would make me feel better to open my checkbook, and know, at any given time how much money I have, right down the the penny, as was the case so many months ago. So will I start balancing the damn thing? Gosh, I hope so.
Will I start taking better care of myself? Eating better, exercising regularly, that whole thing? Gosh, I really, really hope so.
I don't know if this blog is me hitting bottom with this sleepless thing. I'd love to think that, but it could also mean that I was done checking in on Facebook, the kid's still sleeping, and the next thing to do would be chores, so I decided to come write instead. But really, writing for the three or four of you who read this is quite cathartic and hopefully, in this case, I'll change some of my ways as a result. Heck, you never know. If not, the party's at my house at 2 a.m.