What’s My Name Again?

Please refrain from asking me any questions more complicated than, “What is your first name?” for a while. I’ve had the same name for 35 1/2 years so it’s rather ingrained knowledge. I should remember it. Ask me what I wore today, what the kids ate for dinner or who’s running for president and I may give you a blank stare.

Last night I worked until 2 am. People, 2am is not fun unless you’re at a party. 2 am isn’t even always fun at a party, though when I was a young whippersnapper and could sleep in until ten if I wanted there was at least a potential for it to not be bad. 2am, staring at a computer screen, wondering if you’ve accomplished enough to go to bed yet because you can barely move – well, that’s plain ridiculous.

Last year, at the tender age of 34 1/2 I had marathon stretches of time where I’d stay up well past midnight working and then feel decent the next day. Not exactly sprightly, but kind of “I’ve-got-a-new-baby-who-won’t-sleep-but-oh-well” ish. Except without the baby.

This year I don’t know what is going on, but I can’t handle the late nights like I previously could. Maybe my body heard women have reached some arbitrary advanced age when the 35th birthday passes. Whatever.

However it happened, I’ve become a woman who sleeps at normal times now. Like 11pm until 6:30 the next morning. This is really messing with my productivity. If I can’t work frantically into the little sliver of time between the kids’ bedtime and my own, when will I work?

I need to fall into bed as soon as possible because either my glasses are smudgy or they’re going blurry on me from utter exhaustion. Tomorrow I will usher my children off to school, get prepared for interview two (hooray!), dash to a client event, dash back home, squeeze in some work on the computer before the school and daycare day ends, then rush out for another 5pm client meeting. At some point I will attempt to feed myself, but if it’s not written on my Google Calendar there’s a good chance I’ll forget. Oh, and then after that client meeting I get to turn my computer on for more work. Good thing I love my job. I work for amazing people who appreciate what I do.

I’m not bragging here, like “Look at me, I’m so important, I have to sleep standing up in my office in twenty minute increments because I’m SO SPECTACULARLY BUSY.” Yes, I am a busy person and normally I like the hubbub, but this schedule is making even action-loving me look like a really low-budget zombie.

You know, now that I’ve written out that I’m 35 1/2 I’m second guessing the truth in that and wondering if I’m actually 36. Hmmm. Ask me in a few weeks, I might know by then.

 

Written as a seriously free free-writing exercise to participate in Just Write.

 

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Comments

  1. lol! made me laugh again…=>

  2. So funny– I often feel like we’re living parallel lives. The first year of my blog–and the years before when I was working on a novel–I often wrote from midnight to 2am and had to force myself to go to sleep. I’d be up with the kids at 6:30. I wasn’t always the sharpest but I did fine. Now that’s just impossible. And I’m a few months shy of 36. Maybe we’ve rounded a corner. 😦

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