It’s 6.50 am and I’ve just finished my coffee. I’m done with the first item on the daily agenda there are three more to go till I close shop at about 3 pm. The time is my usual, I wake up at 5.30 and get up at 6 — I like to give myself half an hour in bed, just waking up slowly. The coffee, however, is not.
I’m a tea-drinker, me. I like the smell, the flavor, the caffeine, and this latter is usually enough to energize me for the day. It’s not enough when I haven’t slept well, and last night I had around two hours of sleep, followed by two or maybe three hours of coughing-three-year-old horror, then a couple of hours more, when she finally dozed off. Excuse me a moment while I make myself a second cup of Joe.
Well, what do you know, wonders never cease — this time I added milk to the coffee to make it last longer. Otherwise I’ll get too jittery. Or maybe I’ll still get jittery even with the milk, which I really hate, by the way. Anyway, what I’m trying to say in so many words is that I’ve found myself in the fascinating situation of realizing how true that old saying is about not appreciating something until you lose it.
I generally do my best to appreciate things and people. I know taking them for granted ends up in misery but, you know, there was one thing I used to overlook and that was sleep. Then came the kid and oh, how things changed. I’ve never needed a lot of sleep — six hours is perfectly fine, and I can function totally fine with five hours too. But there is a catch, I’ve discovered, and this catch is that these hours need to be slept in an uninterrupted stretch. Yep, invented the wheel again, that’s me. I never truly realized how vital uninterrupted sleep is. Until I lost it, that is. Now, I mean at this moment on Friday, I suffer greatly but I’m also sort of curiously watching myself and detecting the effects of this broken sleep.
First, I’m already getting jittery because of that bloody coffee. I also had a coughing bout because of the bloody milk. Yeah, we’re all down with the snuffles in this house, we’re the Hacking Three! Milk, in case you don’t know, is a pro-inflammatory product. If you’re throat is already sore or irritated, milk will make things worse. Now, why didn’t I think of that? Right, because my concentration is bloody sleeping, that bitch. But I guess she’s actively dreaming, which will make it possible for me to get through the day, in which I still have to write a couple of business video scripts, rewrite a few 3D printing news, and translate about ten pages of a mermaid’s quest for justice. Then, around 3, I’ll sit back and try to relax, while the little one runs around and shouts at the top of her lungs for joy. She’s very sick, you understand, so she’s not going to kindergarten. I’m not complaining, mind you, and I’m not really boasting. Oh, well, maybe a little because I love my job and my kid.
Anyway, nice talking to you, don’t forget the moral of the story and sleep well. Notify me of any typos because I don’t have the time to proofread right now. Seeya.