On the one hand, it’s very tempting to want to sleep in on a weekend.

On the other hand, I hate waking up late, because OMG I’VE WASTED THE WHOLE DAY! (I’m one of those annoying morning people) This half of me knows all the words to Warren Zevon’s “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

On the other hand (or maybe it’s the same hand as the second hand), I know that sleeping in on the weekend is bad for you and makes Monday morning so much more difficult.

And I think this is on the same hand as the second hand: I have a standing date to Skype with one of the Very Best Friends, Interrupted early on Saturday mornings and trust me, people: you don’t want me to miss those conversations too often as I get very cranky without the VBFIs’ kind and wise counsel.

Back to the first hand: staying up late is fun! There are books to read and video games to play and movies to watch and recipes to look for and genealogy research to do and I’m like that kid who wants to do EVERYTHING at Disneyland ALL AT ONCE. (This half of me also sings along to Warren Zevon.)

Compounding things is that the Vertigo, Interrupted is not interrupted enough. If I incline my head even a little bit off true I regret it instantly. I know that sleep isn’t necessarily going to fix that, but every time the room spins my knee jerk reaction is, “Go lie down!”

I’ve actually gone so far as to research how to live happily and productively with less sleep. I even tried it, but then I wound up being like Kramer on Seinfeld when he was living on polyphasic sleep, up to but not necessarily including getting dumped into the Hudson River in a burlap sack.

It’s complicated being me.

What the heck is she doing now?

© E. Stocking Evans 2016