Reflections from an Insomniac...

It’s the middle of the night. In the 3's to be exact. All good folk are sleeping (because after all, my pastor from Winnipeg once told me that nothing good happens after midnight). But here I sit. After staring at the ceiling for 3 hours, I have decided to get up and try a fresh tactic. I think I am being punished. After all…it was just yesterday that Becky and I were discussing insomnia, and I made bold claims of never struggling with it. And here I am - VERY tired, and unable to sleep. This is most frustrating.

A small comfort in my slumbersome and somnolent state (even in sheer exhaustion, I can still find my way around the thesaurus) is that my mother, who is a frequent visitor of Insomniaville, is probably up at this very minute feeling the same way. And let me take this moment of shared mother-daughter vigil to wish you a very happy birthday. Love you Mom. I had a great picture of you I wanted to post – it was with you on the inner tube last summer, behind Mike’s boat. It is one of my most treasure pictures – but I knew you would not appreciate being displayed on the Internet in your bathing suit, so my birthday present to you is my restraint in posting it. It’s a great memory though.

Speaking of memories, it is amazing the memories and thoughts that can go through your mind when you are trying desperately to sleep. Things that I haven’t thought of in ages are suddenly right in the forefront of my mind. And I guess it’s not just memories, my mind is all a-flutter with a whirlwind of thoughts…the past, the present, and let’s not forget the future. I was thinking about the time I played soccer in my first year of Millar. I was thinking that I should clean out the fridge tomorrow because there is some spinach that is going bad. I was thinking about the church, and how we can overcome some little “issues” that have been cropping up lately. Then I was thinking about my friend Tia and the time we stayed at that retreat centre and had to haul all our card making supplies up four stories to the top of the tallest house that I have ever stayed in. Then I was thinking about the time my cousin Barry and I “helped” my aunt and uncle cook at a church family camp week and in a moment of youthful recklessness, somehow the dirty dishrag ended up in the freshly made pail of juice. I never was great at catching things. Oh…that one still makes me laugh. heh heh (Sorry Carol).

One memory leads into another, one thought brings on a second…no wonder I can’t get to sleep. But I am going to go try again. Sorry…no real point to this, and no real clarity – I just thought that if I was up anyway, I might as well have company. It is amazing what you can come up with in the clutches of sleep deprivation. I may not even remember writing this in the morning. I think I am starting to forget already. Yawn. Oh sheesh am I ever tired. Wish me luck!