What dreams may come?

Why, why is it that every time I get involved with someone I end up neglecting my blog?

In the bad old days when greylynnsinglesclub was a record of the sordid activity that calls itself dating, it made sense to stop blogging when I was in a relationship because I had no desire to share the private and personal details of a genuinely intimate thing with random readers. These days the blog is a much broader rant about gender politics with snippets of what's happening leading up to the election, and there's a lot to say, a lot I don't mind saying, and yet I seem not to be.

Part of the problem is time. However I have an idea that there are some alternative explanations which bear some scrutiny.

I am the woman that sleep forgot. I'm a stupidly light sleeper and at the moment, while I become accustomed to doing this next to a large, wriggling, occasional snore-fest, everything is just slightly fally-aparty. As I type, my boyfriend (ancient but decidedly new to me) is currently comatose, having woken up, programmed his ass off for an hour, cured his own insomnia and returned to the land of nod. I, on the other hand, gave up the idea of dormancy about an hour ago when he switched on the light, having already been awake for a good 60+ minutes. I feel churlish in writing this - this is the same boyfriend who's exhausted because he graciously spent the last three nights on the sofa (his sofa) so I could get a reasonable sleep (THREE NIGHTS dear reader). But tomorrow - filled with a selection of work - is already here, and I know the rest of it is going to be crappy.

Unsurprisingly under the circumstances, weeknights typically see me arrive home after nine-plus hours of paid work in a zombified state, stare stupidly at the TV for a while, worry about all the other work that isn't getting done, lament my dropping blog stats, eat and then fall into a fitful slumber, only to repeat the cycle the next day. I hardly have the brain to read a blog let alone write one. Granted- it's not always quite this bad - but honestly! I've tried going back to my place alone, and this is definitely the sensible option, one I should make more use of, but where's the fun in that? His place means wriggling, snoring, traffic noise, and street lights, but is free of flatmates, close to work and has a fantastic shower. Plus it has him.

Light sleepers of the blogosphere - lend me your thoughts. What work-arounds to my conundrum have you discovered?

In other news, my mother had a very successful surgery and is well into the recovery phase. Just prior to going under the knife she bought herself a three-litre Skyline which is possibly more likely to shorten her life than the cancer she had removed.

And I'm now blogging occasionally at aucklandista.com after a kind invitation from Joanna. Pop over and have a look should you so desire.


Deborah said…
I do a good line in insomnia too. Often not such a big deal given that I am at home with the kids, so I can have a slow start if I need it, or a mid-morning nap. Also, I have been living with my husband for over 19 years now, so we are kind of used to each other's nighttime snuffles, snorts and the like - it's harder to sleep without them than with.

But I'm starting a temporary part time job on Tuesday, so things could get interesting.

If I wake in the night, I often get up and do some work, or get up and blog. Sometimes I head back to bed around 5am, sometimes not.
Lyn said…
Well - the doing some work part kind of works for me, but it also sometimes means engaging with things that are stressful and then sadly, the day after the next day I find I'm terribly droopy. I guess the two options are that I push for controlling my environment more or I just give up on uninterrupted sleep and hope I develop more tolerance for noise and motion. I'm going to try controlling the environment more as the first port of call. It's unlikely at this stage I'll get 19 years to get used to anyone else and I'm starting pretty late!

Maybe it's a lost cause though - rather in the same manner as you, my parents are both chronic insomniacs and I'm looking down the barrel of much more of this as I get older. Sigh.
Anonymous said…
good news about your Mother :-)

Since having kids I have had sleep problems. I seldom get a good noghts sleep. Really my advice is just to roll with it - I have learnt to accept it and be content with resting instead of sleeping.
Lyn said…
I swear - I'm getting mighty depressed by the number of women who suffer from insomnia as they age. I'm going to be a zombie from now on. I just know it.
PatientVirgil said…
I've suffered from sleep deprivation since getting this chronic condition.

Now sleep is like moments when the soul is anaesthetised briefly, providing undeserved delight, bedfore being woken into the knowledge that it isn;'t day yet, and normal people are still blissfully Under Milk Wood.

"Hush, the babies are sleeping, the farmers, the fishers, the tradesmen and pensioners, cobbler, schoolteacher, postman and publican, the undertaker and the fancy woman, drunkard, dressmaker, preacher, policeman, the webfoot cocklewomen and the tidy wives. Young girls lie bedded soft or glide in their dreams, with rings and trousseaux, bridesmaided by glow-worms down the aisles of the organplaying wood. The boys are dreaming wicked or of the bucking ranches of the night and the jollyrodgered sea. And the anthracite statues of the horses sleep in the fields, and the cows in the byres, and the dogs in the wetnosed yards; and the cats nap in the slant corners or lope sly, streaking and needling, on the one cloud of the roofs. You can hear the dew falling, and the hushed town breathing. Only your eyes are unclosed, to see the black and folded town fast, and slow, asleep. And you alone can hear the invisible starfall, the darkest-before-dawn minutely dewgrazed stir of the black, dab-filled sea..."

But for me, the quiet wallpaper, and the cats who found my compost heap, and the thought of work in the waking light.

Listen, put on morning, waken into falling light.
Tessa said…
Sleep for me is my escape from the soggy mud bank and back to my beloved Africa. If I didn't sleep, I would be very seriously mad. Love your blog, btw. Are un-singles allowed to join in?