Insomnia

Insomnia.

That word can send shivers down your spine.

Anyone who struggles with it can attest to that.

I never had trouble falling asleep.

Never.

I also, admittedly, didn’t really have the level of compassion I should have for those who did suffer with it.

Until about a month ago.

I began having trouble just drifting off to sleep.

That was followed by waking at 3:00 a.m. and never going back to sleep.

Lying awake in your bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling is pure agony.

Don’t try to force yourself to sleep. It’s the path to madness.

Counting sheep is fruitless.

Being awake in the wee hours of the morning I became acutely aware of sounds I’d never heard before.

My little dog tends to toss and turn...a lot.

My wife snores.

She snores in different levels of intensity and patterns throughout the night.

It’s like sleeping with the Three Stooges.

It also puts their theme song in my head for the rest of the day.

Last week I heard a strange noise and was completely convinced there was a UFO in my yard.

I quietly slid out of bed, so as not to wake, Moe, Larry, and Curly, and made my way to the living room.

There I peeped through the blinds, only to see my flying saucer was actually the trash being picked up.

I’ve had many suggestions on what to do to gain back my most sought after snooze time.

Some are completely off the charts.

Curling and uncurling your toes, eating lettuce, and recipe concoctions that would make Granny Clampett turn green.

A fellow journalist suggested counting all the excuses the Council has for going into closed sessions.

Where’s my pillow?

I’m tired already.

See you out there.