Stop this nonsense ... Please!

I am sooooooooooooooooo tired.

Not sure what I'm going to do to address this issue but I see my doctor on Tuesday so I guess this becomes #7 of the (maximum) two items to be discussed.

I truly don't know if there is an answer, since the problem continues to be one of my having to wake up every two / two and half hours to turn over.

And frankly, after the third wake-up, I've had enough and my mind goes into gear and I just have to get out of bed, which becomes "for the day."

If only I could learn the art of napping, it might not be so bad.

But apparently, that is not an easy thing to do at my age.

I'm trying, and I hope to achieve some success with it soon but thus far, it's not happening.

At least I'm resting for a bit during the day, but sleep eludes me.

I've never been one to nap unless I'm sick, in which case I simply sleep my life away.

Feast or famine, that's me.

Yesterday, I had been up since 4:30am and had taken a massage bath to start the day because my body was already in such discomfort.

And we had an extremely busy day.

John finally tackled a few jobs from the "honey-do" list (a list that in fact is not allowed to be maintained in this household) and he needed my help with the day's chore.

So we spent the morning putting up shelves in the laundry room before I had to leave to go have lunch with my Angel.

When I returned, he had completed that project.

Then we installed new drying racks (I'm a nut for anything Lee Valley and they have some wonderful ideas for the laundry room).

Once we finished doing that, it was time for our politics show (and pre-dinner drinks) and we were both ready to sit down.

But it was also time to think about dinner and neither of us had an inkling!

We eventually came up with something that fit the bill (we're not elaborate around here) and we were eating by 6:30pm.

Our boys are in Chicago so the game wasn't starting until 8:00pm -- they were pushing things big time if they thought they were going to have either of us helping them win last night.

I made it to the end of the first inning; John apparently stayed to the end of the third (I vaguely recall his coming to bed and reporting no score).

Fortunately, the Jays won without us again (they're on the road, so they're winning!).

The first time I woke to turn over, it was all of 10:30pm -- and oh my body was screaming in pain.

My arms and shoulders were really objecting to having held my arms up over my head for long periods of time, so they were letting me know in no uncertain terms that I should not participate in home renovation projects.

But really, it was such a small job!

The next time I woke, it was 12:30am -- and this time I slapped on the TENs machine.  The pain in my hips was just too severe and both legs were agonizingly sore.  Evidently, several Mack trucks had been present in the bedroom again.  I gingerly made my way back to bed and eventually fell back to sleep.

And then the stupid dreaming started.

When I woke at 3:00am, drenched in sweat, upset with John for not taking the turn that was clearly marked, I knew there was no going back to sleep this time.

Especially since I had to again get up to pee.

Evidence of the Mack truck assaults was now severe; my legs just didn't want to respond to my commands.

This time, I was awake for the long haul and there was no sense even trying to go back to sleep.

I know when I'm beaten.

So, once again, here I am at 3:30am -- blogging.

My body would love to be in the bath tub, with those massage jets pounding away at me, but the tub is very noisy and I don't want to disturb John at this ungodly hour (our house is very small, and the bathroom is immediately adjacent to the bedroom).

But once he's awake, that bath is being drawn and I'll spend an hour in there to officially start the day again.

With any luck, I'll be able to get some shut-eye at some point during the day today and maybe stay awake to a civilized time tonight so that I can sleep to perhaps 6:00am tomorrow.

A girl can dream, can't she?