Tick tock

God damn it.

Another sleepless night.

Judging by my buddy list (the fact that hardly anyone was idle at 3:22 Eastern), I’m thinking we’ve all given up on the sandman. By 5 a.m., I gave up and went into work. It’s 7 a.m. I’m ready to pull off my eyelids to keep me from falling asleep right where I’m sitting. I was the last one out of the office last night and the first one in. And yes, I keep repeating the mantra that I’m happy to be employed and working and thriving and growing and all that jazz. I’m just crabby right now. Bear with me here.

So I watched the sun rise today. My office (I think) faces southeast, so I got a good eyeful of pink skies and a bright orange sun against the blue gradient ranging from midnight to morning hues. I don’t get what the fuss is about, with watching the sun rise. I would rather have slept through it. 🙂

I have a 10 a.m. meeting, and because my morning project runs till (and past) 9 a.m., I always have to be up extra-early to be showered and dressed before it so I can drive in for 10. Which means I NEVER sleep the night before. Which means the crabaliciousness will continue well into the wee hours of Friday night, as we do love our 10 a.m. meeting time slot. Although if there is a God, it’ll be an 11 a.m. meeting on Friday instead. Maybe I’ll skip today’s group lunch and sleep at my desk. I’m in a (seemingly permanent) cycle of 15-hour days and my brain is hurting entirely too much to be social.

My health is falling apart and I don’t know where to begin in fixing it. (Physical health, of course. The mind got toasted 10 years ago.) I am having a hard time healing from my backache, as it’s now traveled to my legs and I’m getting jealous of people with canes and walkers because they’re getting around better than I am! It’s like how a stubbed toe makes you forget that you have a headache — and I’m running out of body parts to injure to take my mind off the fact that my brain is jelly.

Pulling all-nighters, even if you’re not working them, is terrible for the soul. Admittedly, I was so stressed out over unfinished/unstarted projects that sleep refused to come. But when I have time on my hands, the pontificating begins. And never ends.

I got to thinking about a mutual pledge made once upon a time, how each didn’t want to screw up what we were trying to find together. Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, isn’t it? And how screwed-up it all became, and I don’t know quite why. It wasn’t meant to be. I can live with that. Hey, I’m a big believer in the universe making or breaking it for a reason. But what I fail to reconcile in my head is why nobody really tried to get it right, either. I’ll live, but I do miss the hugs more than anything and can use one right about now.

I think maybe the universe was saving me for something else, but I don’t know that was completely it. At least, not for anything in the immediate line of vision. Maybe I’ll answer all my dating-service e-mails after all — I guess I’ve been waiting for a miracle, a sign to tell me not to go about things that way. But even the universe is like, “Honey, you’re cranky when you’re not getting laid. Hop to it, and soon!” So I’ll suck it up and agree to autorenew my subscription and see whether good intentions can pave a road to paradise during one of these journeys.

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