How I almost gave up & Why I didn’t

Holy cow, there is SO MUCH in my head that wants to be written…that hasn’t already come out in an LJ post, homework discussion, fiction or dead-tree journal, that is…Good lord, I need to clone myself so that I can have a me completely dedicated to taking constant dictation. (Really good speech-recognition software and a portable computer would do; I don’t need my clones to be pretty. Anything that requires being cute, I’d rather do myself, thanks. …Well, except taking pictures. A clone to pose for photos would be darn cool; I hate photos.)

Anyway, I’m going to stick to the polyphasic thoughts that have been forming over the last couple days, in this post. The rest of it will have to come out somewhere else — in another post, at least. (I don’t get bored writing about sleep, but sticking to just writing about sleep is tough!)

Speaking of tough…Yeah, the last week or two has been pretty difficult. If you remember, two weeks ago I pushed myself with not enough regard for naptimes, meaning I ate at bad times, moved my naps around mercilessly, and spent waaaay too much time on the computer. This, naturally, made me tired.

Well, while I have repaired my schedule and activities somewhat since then, I haven’t really recovered from being tired, at least not at night. I’ve had to take at least one extra bit of sleep (usually 10-20 minutes extra, though it tends to be more on weekends — because I am working on a sleep debt now, I can feel it) every day for the last ten. And I’ve been tired at some point almost every night, to the point of being seriously aggravating.

The problem is, here’s what my place is like at night: On the lower level, where I live, there’s one big room and one small room with a door. A small child sleeps in the small room. On one end of the big room is a bed with my boy in it. Next to that are the computers. Next to those are the TV, which I can turn on if I sit on a stool two feet away from it; otherwise it’s too loud. The other end is storage and the fridge. There’s enough room in the “living area” to lay down and stand back up, so I can (and do) do Pilates, but no way can I practice Tai Chi. Similarly, it’s all one big open area, so I can sit on the far corner of the couch with a light on and read/write under it, but basically I’m stuck in the dark. Upstairs is the kitchen, bathroom and two light sleepers.

Now, that sounds pretty horrid (and I’m sure it explains why I couldn’t succeed with Uberman), but for the most part it’s not too bad — I sleep from 1-4 and hit the ground running at 4 a.m., so really there’s only about three hours at night that get boring. But wow do they get boring. And the hardest part is, I really can’t use the computer during that time, even though it’s about the only entertaining thing available. Why, you ask? Well, because I use the computer all day at work, then I come home and use it for school in the evening, then I wake up at four and write some fiction (provided I don’t hit the snooze-bar and miss my writing time, which has also happened more often lately than I like to admit) — in any case, I’m on the computer nearly all day, and my wrists and neck and eyes need a break by the time 10 p.m. rolls around. There’s just no way around that (though trust me, if I could jack in for 20 hours a day, I probably would–!)

I would like to take this opportunity, however, to point out that I’m grateful as hell for the roof over my head — not only are a lot of people, people right in my hometown even, far less lucky, but I would be in WAY worse circumstances myself if not for some hefty luck and help from family. When I got divorced three years ago, I lost my home, my car, my job and all my friends literally in the same week. I’ve been stupid lucky since then, since I came darn close to ending up on the street with a baby in tow. So my apartment may suck, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it.

However, I am house-hunting for bigger digs. It’ll take several months, but eventually my circumstances should vastly improve, to the tune of having my own space (with a door!omg!!) and room to actually do stuff. Should be no problems at all then. (Plus, packing and cleaning and organizing ought to keep me busy for ages…)

But what about in the meantime?

I thought about this a lot last night, as I sat in the dark about midnight, scribbling in my journal (also not good for eyes/wrists/neck, but jeez, I was totally out of other ideas). I considered quitting Everyman until the new house comes into play. And I decided against it.

First, I can’t imagine having 3-4 less hours per day, I just can’t. I try to imagine going to bed at 10 and getting up at 6, which is pretty much what I’d have to do, and I can feel myself go pale. There goes my exercise time, my relaxation time (even if I do hate it when I’m tired, when I’m *not* tired, late night is the only time I have to read, watch movies, or just chill), my fiction writing time, my leisurely morning showers…AND my nice restful daytime breathers…good gods!

So there’s good evidence that polyphasic sleeping can be addictive, children…do be careful. ;)

And besides that, come on, it’s been seven months this Friday. I’m totally acclimated to taking regular naps — even if I don’t keep my schedule as I should, I still get tired like clockwork at naptime, and I love to nap. I love not sleeping all night; I feel SO much less sore when I wake up from only 3 hours or so, compared to eight. I’m becoming a master of getting comfortable and snozzing off just about anywhere, which is cool in its own right. I’ve now done this through vacations, illnesses, screwups, business trips, family emergencies…and I’m going to stop because late nights are annoying for the time being? I think not–the mere idea is offensive. (I am a stubborn lunatic, in case you’re new to this blog.)

So. Things may not go perfectly, but I’m not giving up. If I have to stumble my way through the weeknights and catch up some sleep on the weekends like I’ve been doing, that’s what I’ll do, though of course I’d rather stumble upon some magical way of getting my schedule back in line. (Like warm weather, so I could go walking or rollerblading at night — that would help immensely. And who knows? This is Michigan; our weather is so fickle there’s bad jokes about it on T-shirts in our gift shops.)

Whew. Close call.

Now, back to pondering things to do in the dark and the quiet that don’t strain the eyes or wrists…*sigh*

-PD