scribblechic

Want to know a personal secret? I have a tiny quirk that lends me as much peace as it gifts others comic relief. When the going gets tough, I fall asleep. Despite the laugh lines that mark my journey into adulthood, I slip into a solitary bubble of tranquility in moments of stress that rival fairy tale slumbers of beloved childhood characters.

College deadlines for lengthy thesis papers would send me shuffling to sleep. Setting my alarm for a promised power nap I would consistently snooze only to wake at the proverbial last minute; typing enthusiastically in the frenzied moments just shy of my deadline, completing projects with a clarity that sharply contrasted the haze of my dreams.

In labor with my first child I slipped into deep sleep, snoring between contractions moments before delivering our son. My husband shares this story with genuine amusement; his telling consistently met with polite smiles and disbelief. I cannot protest, I was sleeping when it happened.

This week, as we near an important meeting concerning our son I feel the familiar lullaby of sweet dreams calling to me like mythological sirens to sailors on troubled waters. Despite the clear skies of morning my head is fuzzy with the promise of sleep, I cup my coffee closely trying valiantly to stay awake and meet each wave of anxiety for the unknown with false bravado willing myself to keep my eyes open.

I am walking a tightrope of nerves and uncertainty, my head cloudy with sleep.

Tagged: Sleep