To the Beat of the Rhythm of the Night

Back in the day when I was a young lass, I was friends with sleep. Me and the Sandman, we would kick it. Hardcore. I could sleep any time. Anywhere. When I was a teenager, my friends and I would carouse about town doing teenage things (2am sundaes at McDonald’s! whoo hooooo!) and then I would crash into sleep wherever I ended up. In the back seat of a car? No probs, holmes. On a friend’s couch? Bring it! On the floor of a friend’s living room, my blue mascara (oh no) crunched together, my white keds kicked off and my jaw all aslack? Totally. I would sleep. Just like that.

Somewhere, in my early early 20s, things changed. The Sandman broke up with me and sleeping was never quite the same again. I would spend hours, awake. Reading, watching tv, gnashing my teeth in frustration. At the time, it was the least of my problems. I was in the middle of a period in my life I like to call Puberty the Sequel, where everything that happened was dramatic and exhausting. So in addition to the lack of sleeping, I was doing a lot of Diane Keaton-style crying about stuff. You know that whole montage in Something’s Gotta Give where Diane Keaton just walks around busting up crying over everything? That was me, around age 20. (And if you have never seen that montage, you have to so totally click on that link there. It is so freakin’ funny.) So really, I didn’t have time to sleep. I had a full day’s worth of waterworks to get through and I was burning the midnight oil doing it.

After Puberty the Sequel ended, I went into a phase where I could sleep, but would wake up over anything. Traffic noises outside my window, a creak in the ceiling, the next door neighbors having sexual furniture-moving episodes that I could hear through my wall. (What is a sexual furniture-moving episode, you ask? It was what I chose to name the sounds that I was hearing, which could not be described any other way than to say that my neighbors were clearly knockin’ boots and pushing their furniture around at the same time. I tell you, there is a fetish for everything). Just when I was getting over this hyper awareness of sound and sleeping through all the racket, I moved. And my new apartment? Was totally silent. I remember my first night in that apartment. I was wide awake most of the night, freaked out by all the nothing that was happening in my presence. No traffic, no neighbors, no nothing.

The Sandman was chased away once again, and came back slowly and cautiously and settled into my new silent room. And then? Wham! Nordic Boy got sick. Really, really sick. In and out of the hospital, almost kicking the bucket kind of sick. When that was going on, my sleeping habits grew even lighter than they ever had before. “Sleeping with one eye open” is what I believe it’s called. I was atuned to everything about Nordic Boy– I would wake up if his breathing pattern changed. I would wake up if he moved in the slightest. I was watching him for any changes and so conking out was out of the question. And during this time, the Sandman was fed up and just hightailed it out the door and never came back. To this day, I will wake up if Nordic Boy so much as sighs in his sleep. The fear of that period has never left, I suppose.

So for the past two days, Nordic Boy has had a very slight cold. You wouldn’t even know he had a cold really, it’s so slight. But for the past two nights, the congestion has made him snore. I am talking full on, buzz saw, cartoon style snoring. It’s like a nasal nocturne all night long and it ain’t soothing. So for me, the girl who usually is functioning on a few hours of sleep a night, and who wakes up when a mosquito farts, this has meant no sleep at all. At all.

The Sandman has screwed me over once again. Maybe some day I will sleep a full 8 hours again at some point in my life. Sleeping for real seems like part of my lost youth, gone forever just like Pixie Stix straws and DeBarge.

I’m tired, peeps. As usual. That’s all.

I’m out,
Librarian Girl


  1. My main man snores like a wild pig every night of my life and I can usually sleep through that without much of a problem. But every tiny little peep or sniff that the puppy makes will wake me up for hours. I feel ya on the current lack of sleep situation! Sooner or later you’ll crash, and it will be awesome.

  2. “wakes up when a mosquito farts” might be one of the funniest lines I’ve ever read.I, like you, used to love to sleep. Then I went through a divorce. For the year during our separation leading up to the finality of everything, I was lucky if I slept two or three hours a night. It was miserable. Unfortunately, it’s been 4 years and I never regained my ability to sleep all night without waking up. Not that I wish the whole not-sleeping-thing on anyone else, but I’m also kind of glad to know I’m not alone.P.S. Glad Nordic Boy survived whatever illness he had! 🙂

  3. One day I will sleep again. I hope. It’s been a rough 6 months. Even pre-child I had issues, and my son doesn’t believe that I should be allowed to sleep longer than 3 hours at a time. Actually, tomorrow I have the day off and Baby goes to daycare. My plan for the day? Take a benedryl once everyone has gone, and sleep until after noon. It will be awesome. Awesome, awesome, awesome.Hopefully the Sandman will get GPS or something and make his way back!

  4. love it. I have a very love/hate relationship with the Sandman as well. I once slept in a hotel bathtub because my entire family was snoring at the same time. It was my own personal hell.

  5. its about freekin time lady. i was starting to think that you had joined a convent with no love the jacket in the last post!xo,WDL

  6. Progesterone. I used to be able to sleep through anything and anywhere. That changed and I thought it was stress, life, whatever. Now the Sandman’s my hero again. Natural Hormone Therapy rocks. ( Good to know mosquitos fart too.

  7. that sucks! i hope you and the sandman rendezvous again very soon. speaking of rendezvous, that clip seemed even more dramatic with the French overdub.

  8. Sigh. Sadly, I know exactly what you’re talking about. It’s fascinating to see that so many other people have developed this problem. Maybe we are just… brace yourself… getting old. ER! Older-ER. Which means I should be darned thankful for the five hours of constantly interrupted sleep I get today.

  9. Melatonin. You can get it at the grocery store.Or red grapes. Kind of the same thing. Both help me with sleep. And then I don’t feel like a druggie. Because Benadryl is for allergies, IMHO.

  10. Then don’t get pregnant. Because I can’t fall back asleep after I get up to pee between 3-4 in the morning, even though I’m so so tired. Preparing me for when the little bundle arrives? Screw that. I wanna sleep now. Then when I have something cute to look at, I’ll be up in the middle of the night.I have no suggestions for you, as I’m sure you’ve heard/tried them all. All I have to say is good luck, and hope NB feels better.

  11. Puberty the Sequel!!! Fascinating! I now know how to explain why I was such a bitchy wreck when I was 21. Thank you! At my last apartment, I totally had the furniture moving neighbors. I don’t think there was sex involved but large couches would be moved across the entire apartment in the matter of a few seconds. We also had the next door neighbors who would fart so loud it would wake me up at night. Eeeww.

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