My Lady Slumber

My but how you make me weak!
I don’t know whether to laugh aloud or
Shout my sorrows with a streak.
The absurdity of this situation
Really  brings a groan to my lips.
Even should I work to exhaustion,
Still you leave me breathless and
Sobbing for just one hour of sleep.
Why have you deserted me, My Lady Slumber?

Written for this week’s Three Word Wednesday prompt:¬†

Also, because I have run out of my sleeping medicine and am currently unable to refill. This is not going to be pretty…

Expect sleep-deprived insanity to show up often here.

EDIT: Oops, just realized I already did this specific prompt a few weeks ago… Ah well, still leaving this up. (See what I mean about the sleep-deprivation?)

Ignore previous edit. I’m just a chicken with it’s head cut off.


Friday, May 2, 2014

Couldn’t sleep last night until some unreasonable time in the morning. Still not very awake at the moment and I feel kind of…disconnected. This happens every now and then, sometimes more than others. It can been very tiring, but in the end, it’s just the way the world works for me and I’ve come to accept it. I try to work through it and around it and with it.

On the upside, I received an awesome email from my sister some point last night. It has made this morning all the better despite my lack of restorative sleep.

She had designed a new header for my blog. (grins)

photo (1)
image: created by my sister Clarissa

She mentioned that this is ‘such a Martha thing to say.’ Which is pretty correct. When I’m tired or dizzy or confused (which is a lot) I can get pretty random.

(Like accidentally punching myself in the eye when I just meant to rub the sleepiness away.)

I’m so tired…

She stared at the sleeping figures all around her as a dim light from the windows cast somewhat comforting shadows across the room. It was the third night in a row of trying to sleep without the aid of her sleeping medicine. Things were slowly, but progressively getting worse.

The first night she had slept maybe four hours before finally giving up and going about the day anyway. The second night she had managed to sleep for almost seven hours with the aid of the bubblies. The third night sleep was almost there before she randomly stopped breathing often enough that her body would start seizing in its pathetic attempt to start processing oxygen again. After the fourth time that night, she’d given up and simply lay in bed with random moments of wandering throughout the rest of the house to look at her sleeping family.

She felt like a small child faced with a giant bear that wasn’t sure if it wanted to cuddle the toddler in front of it or smack the offending creature into the nearest tree with a bone-shattering roar.

Based off of last week’s prompt for FreeWriteFriday.