More Musings on Health and Sleep

Okay, I lied. It's not just the fact that I've lost six pounds that keeps me going. It's that, when you think about it, needing 12 hours of sleep a day makes life...well...boring.

I mean, the sleep is great, and it feels good to feel good and not like I'm swimming through oatmeal while wearing cement underwear or anything. But really, if one needs 12 hours of sleep out of every 24, that leaves the remaining 12 to be:

Boring.

Really boring.

Really really mind-numbingly, soul harrowingly boring.

Because, squeezing in 12 hours of sleep where one can means sleeping at night plus sleeping while the rest of the family is off at work, or school, or athletics, or whatever. Which means that, for instance today, I had only two hours and 40 minutes before I had to pick up the kids from after school sports practice. In that two hours and 40 minutes I had the following list of exciting activities that took up the entire time:

1. Walk the dog.
2. Make lunch.
3. Pick up a prescription from the doctor's office.
4. Fill said prescription.
5. Go to the grocery store.

And that was it: that was the full extent of my free time today. Because once one picks up the kids, it's time to make dinner, and feed the dog, and let the dog out and then back in, and check homework, and set a good example and keep the house quiet during homework time, and empty the dishwasher and clean the kitchen and run the laundry. . .

. . .and all the boring minutae of daily life. Because some things just have to be done when they have to be done, and all the fun stuff and the free time and the stuff I want to do just to be me? That has to wait.

Sure, there are probably lots and lots of people who are organized, and high energy, and have their kids routine's regimented and who have the ability to either multi-task, or delegate, or simply to switch gears rapidly in order to take profitable advantage of the small bits of time that accumulate between the chores. And I wish I could do this. I really do. But so far, after a few decades of trying, I'm beginning to suspect that I have to concede defeat.

Sure, while the sweet potatoes are cooking, and while the turkey is broiling, I managed to post here, which is the sort of thing that keeps everything from being completely hopeless. But there is so much else I want to be able to go and do, and I could do it--

--except for this sleeping thing. Because I can't just cut back on my sleep to gain the extra time.
Not getting enough sleep, for me, means that everything I have to do is just that much harder, and takes just that much longer, and is just that much more boring and depressing, and I don't get any more done anyway.

It isn't fair, and it isn't nice, and it's why it feels like what I am fighting for is my life. Not merely my continued existence, but for all the things that make life worth living and not just the daily grind.

So, that is why I was so incredibly disheartened with all the delay in this condition getting improved: I'm fighting for Life.