I've tried every single position but no joy. Under the covers. On top. With a pillow. Without. Pyjamas. Birthday suit. And now I've given up. I just can't sleep.
It's easy to treat the symptoms and forget to look for the cause which is what I tried for some hours. Now at after 3:00am when I will be up at 7:00am, I find myself writing in an attempt to begin eradicating the cause. However, when it comes to a list as long as the M4 of general life-related stresses, this is merely the equivalent of a first dose of radiotherapy with a lot more work to be done to resolve a problem which many never conquer.
Work sucks. Now I know that that is a familiar refrain and were I unfortunate enough to have a job involving handling dead things or any form of waste products, most would take my statement at face value and understand immediately. However, as my job (thankfully) does not force me to gut fish or analyse stool samples, I may simply be seen as yet another whinger. Far from it. What makes work suck so considerably is that I loved my job. And now I don't. Or rather, I am unable to get on with my work the way I always have (with a certain degree of autonomy as I was fortunate enough to have been born with a fully-functioning brain and earned my common-sense badge on Day One). Instead I am forced to partake in a work-by-numbers exercise, very much marched to a tune I barely recognise any longer, surrounded by people I am either unable to help (as it is not written in the Rules) or couldn't give two hoots about. Work sucks.
I hate money. I always used to hate it largely because I had none. Well, I had just enough to pay half of my bills each month, eat like a mouse and pay for the petrol to get me to work to earn the money to pay half of my bills... Now that I have some, I still hate it. I still find myself wishing I could pull a 'Tom & Barbara' and live a blissfully simple life trading eggs for sugar, carrots for loo roll and a smile for whatever I can get! But, alas, they only managed to achieve their 'Good Life' because they had had plenty of money previously and thus owned an enormous house and garden outright. To be honest, without a huge rent/mortgage payment each month, who couldn't enjoy their life to a far greater extent? I know I blooming well could, without having to convert my garden into a potato farm.
And if work and money weren't bad enough, there's always job-hunting to add to the list of woes. Not for me (well, not until this evening as a way of cleansing myself of the hideous day I had endured). The biggest problem, it seems, is looking for a job when you a) don't want one (not because you want to slack off watching Jeremy Kyle, rather you don't want to work for someone else) and b) you have no idea what you want to do. This is posing a problem for the man in my life and as the garden leave has come to an end, we are now living on borrowed time before my second point - Money - becomes a real pain in the ass. Furthermore, my delicious daydreams earlier of walking out of the office and never going back are far more dream than reality when it pays 100% of our current income. I couldn't feel more imprisoned if I worked for HMP.
All of the above (and a hundred other bug-bears) account for it being nearly 4:00am with me wide-awake, unable to drift off into my slumber. Here's hoping the glass of milk I have just consumed and the aromatherapy sleep potion I have applied liberally to my pillow will at least ease the symptoms enough to out-weigh the stresses which are fast-becoming my nemeses.
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