Well, I managed to make it to day #6 before I dropped the ball on the #31WriteNow blog challenge. At least I have a good reason, though. I spent all day yesterday with my daughter and my precious "honorary" neice and nephews. Considering I got a total of nine hours of sleep in three nights, I was pooped when I got home last night. There was just no blogging to be done. Or so I thought. I got ready for bed and went to the kitchen to take my nightly Xanax to help me rest. More out of it than I thought, I took a PHENTERMINE tablet instead. I panicked, afraid that I had just ruined my chances of a night of sleep. I considered making myself throw the table up, but after seven months of nausea and vomiting during my pregnancy, puking actually freaks me out. I decided to instead take two benadryls and hope for the best. Fight uppers with downers, I always say. Actually I've never said that and I was halfway afraid that my body might spontaneously combust and/or melt during the night.
I got in bed and decided I'd give it an hour to see if I could sleep. If I couldn't, then I'd get back up and work on my blog. I never got back out of bed, but it wasn't because I was necessarily sleeping. Last night I think I got a taste of what it would feel like to be in a coma but be aware of your surroundings. I couldn't move, couldn't open my eyes, couldn't talk. My brain, however, spinning in my skull like a ballerina on Red Bull. It was a terrible feeling. I don't know how long it lasted since I couldn't even pick up my phone to check the time. At some point I did doze off and got just enough sleep to make me feel like death before my daughter woke me up this morning.
I've hoped all day that I'll be completely worn out by tonight and will finally get the rest I so desperately need, but as of 5:45 PM, I'm feeling pretty alert. I'm currently trying to decide whether I should go ahead and write Day 7's post now (though I haven't the foggiest what it's going to be about) or if I should save it for tonight so that I'm not bored.
I want to be the gold medal sleeper I was all the way up through college. I feel like I'm aging three days for every one day I'm actually alive. I hate insomnia.