I have not been sleeping well since Anna went to America. Neither has Wuz.
I believe this is a combination of missing Anna and now being the first bedroom port of call for burglars whether they break in through the front or back door. That’s a lot of responsibility to shoulder.
This means that by day, I am one 31-year-old lump of tired and if any of my joints move to an angle which my limbs can even vaguely construe as horizontal, I fall asleep. At night; however, I fall into bed exhausted and then lie wide awake, eyes glowing in the dark for hours.
Because The Wuz knows I am Queen of the Pack, when I am awake, she is awake and if I am awake, she knows her chances of pats are exponentially higher than when I am asleep and much more likely to accidentally kick her off the bed and when she thinks she might get pats, she purrs and when she purrs, she drools and so if you times the amount of hours I’m not sleeping with the amount of drool she can produce in the same number of hours, there’s been huge puddles of drool in my bed every night.
It’s been gross.
Last night though, I had a reasonable sleep. I enjoyed some Oryx and Crake and took a melatonin and slowly drifted off to the sound of The Wuz’s face motor and the steady drip of her tongue.
The difference a little sleep has made to my mood has been amazing!
How happily I took bathroom breaks today! How many conversations I started over the communal cookie jars at work! How enthusiastic I am about my deskmate’s outfit! How many jokes about turning things off and on I made with IT! What a slow-burn of a Roxette joke I created!
Sleep! We need it, we need it for fun and for dancing and for jokes.