Ah sleep, wonderful sleep. Everyone enjoys a good night's sleep, or stealing a nap on a rainy afternoon, but not everyone sleeps so soundly. I've always considered myself to be a fairly light sleeper. I used to be proud that, after a night's sleep in a hotel, one could barely tell I had been in the bed. Now the blankets and sheets are tossed every which way ("...but loose." Come on, sing it with me!), and I usually wake up soaked in sweat.
Now anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis, knows that I smoke the ganja. I have always smoked a little before bedtime to help me sleep, and one apparent side effect was that I never remembered my dreams, or rarely so. Now, not only do I remember my dreams, but I have been acting them out. I have fallen out of bed, from being sound asleep to on the floor in zero seconds flat. The last time left a little bump on the back of my head. Lately I've taken to placing a floor pillow at my side of the bed, in case I fall out again.
Jeez Louise! What's with the troublesome sleep! I've read quite a few books on the brain, and have learned that dreams are so emotional, because the reasoning part of our brain is asleep (or busy doing other things.) Everything is so intense. I also recently read that as a person gets older, they may start to act out their dreams, and this may accompany the onset of dementia. Oh please Louise! (Or Weezie! Whichever. Whatever) Don't make it dementia. Detention? Okay. I'll be happy to stay late after school. Dental tension? Sure, I'll get my teeth worked on. But dementia. That's just crazy man!
Of course, there was that night months back, when I slipped on our wet deck and knocked myself out momentarily. Actually, it was more like mere seconds. That knock on my noggin might have jarred something that has caused me to rave like a wild-man, and pound my fists in my dreams. It could be stress and anxiety that I stifle during the day, coming out at night to rip into my pleasant dreams with a vengeance.
All I know is that I'm tired of it. (Pun intended.) Early Sunday morning, I woke myself up screaming, "What are you talking about?!" and thrusting my arms out in front of me. It was a little freaky to wake up and see my arms straight out in front of me. My first waking thought was -- of course -- what are my arms doing out in front of me?
So, I've taken to drinking large quantities of Scotch whiskey before bed, while standing on my head. Actually...that's not true. But I have been tackling the problem mentally, and I'm starting to do things such as relaxation exercises before sleep, and maybe not listening to the Queens of the Stone Age right before dropping off.
Other than going nutty nocturnally, things are going fine. I'm having some success on the new friend front. That's always nice. Everyone needs friends, old and new. Even cynical old curmudgeons like me, who can't seem to stay in bed. It's less than a month before my wife and I scurry away to a tree-house retreat before anyone can realize we're gone. Naturally, time seems to slow down as one approaches a vacation. It's just physics.
Well, I hope my faithful followers and random readers have a good night's sleep. Sweet dreams!