Mmmmm ... bed.

There’s a commercial for IKEA that I’ve seen several times, with people all snuggled into their beds, big fluffy down comforters tucked up to their relaxed shoulders and enormously comfy pillows to press their sleepy cheeks against.  They’re smiling in the slumber, all warm and cozy.

Ah, how I loathe these people.

I’m not sure if it’s simply in my nature to be a night owl, but my bed and I don’t make contact until after midnight every night, sometimes edging closer to one.  I get up at 7:30 am for work each day, so I’m not scoring much sleep during the course of the night.   Coffee is my torrid morning lover and my medicine cabinet has a nice, expensive jar of under-eye cream in there that is used daily.

Sometimes it’s a bizarre blood sugar event will send the baggage under my eyes.  Other times, it’s as though I’m just not feeling as rested, for some reason.  I’ve read on other sites that diabetics are more inclined to exhaustion (this wouldn’t surprise me in the least, seeing as how a 100 point blood sugar fluctuation is enough to make me want to take a 30 minute Siah nap), but I’m thinking it’s more my sleep pattern than my endocrine issue. 

Even when I score 8 hours of sleep, I still feel slightly foggy.  I’ve had my thyroid checked.  I’ve done the whole overnight blood sugar checking to make sure I’m not dipping way down in the middle of the night.  And no, Mom, I’m not pregnant.  

Sleep just evades me, the slippery little sucker.  I lay my head down on the pillow, five minutes later the fat cat arrives to sleep on my head, and I close my eyes.  But my brain is still whirring away, thinking of things I want to do and thoughts I’ve barely processed and what am I going to wear tomorrow and is it a site change day and what about my car needing that oil change and oooh, I have an article idea and hey, I’m sort of hungry.  The internal monologue spins out of control.  I feel Chris start to fall asleep beside me and my brain says, “Hey!  Wait for me!” 

And then I see those blasted IKEA commercials.

Maybe I’ll just take a ride to New Haven and take a nap in those IKEA display beds.  Perhaps I’ll enjoy a snack of some Swedish meatballs, too.  Ah, bed.

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