I’ve been planning a blog post about something totally different, but I’m just so tired I can’t muster the words. So instead I’m going to write a bit about being tired. Maybe it will send us both to sleep. I’m certainly ready.
The epidemic started during pregnancy – in those early weeks when I was so exhausted after a day at work the stairs seemed like Everest. Then there was the late pregnancy tiredness, accompanied by the kind of aches and pains I didn’t expect to be experiencing for at least a few more decades. Then the hazy, day/night merging tiredness punctuated by black-out sleeps if I did manage to nap during the day. And finally the ‘up 4 times a night’ tiredness with days fuelled solely by caffeine.
Then, somewhere around 6 months, Scrip started sleeping through (I know – we’re incredibly lucky and long may it last…) Rather than feeling instantly refreshed, it took my sleep-deprived body a good few weeks to get back to semi-normal, where I could appreciate eight hours straight. But appreciate it I did. And over the last few weeks, she’s still been mostly sleeping through – with maybe the odd quick wake up in the night but not one that’s too disruptive (again, I’m keeping my fingers crossed).
So, having gone through the sleepiness spectrum you would have thought I’d be prepared for the exhaustion almost full time working would bring. But not so. Two weeks in, I now look at the clock at 8.30pm each night and consider how early I can realistically go to bed. My eyes are drooping by 9pm and by 9.30pm I’m a walking zombie.
I’m hoping it will pass. I’d like to be able to enjoy my evenings – maybe even talk to my husband. But in the meantime, the easiest thing is to give in to sleep. And, being almost 10pm now (10pm!) it’s time to say night night.