It’s 5:01 am and I’ve been up for an hour and a half. Maybe closer to two hours.

First, Noah had a bad dream. He’s had a few the last couple of nights, but in this one he screamed, “No! NO! Nonononononono!!!” then he whimpered awhile and fell back asleep.

Then, just as I was falling back asleep, the fax machine rang. And a fax came in.

Those wee sleepy hours are dangerous — I lay in bed and beat myself up for everything I think I should have done, or done better, or done differently. That used to be how I fell asleep every night — is it any surprise that I didn’t sleep well?

A few years ago, I figured out that I could meditate myself to sleep much more comfortably. When I’m ready to crash, I settle in, and then begin to focus on my breathing. When it’s slow and steady, I start to imagine the oxygen molecules traveling through my bloodstream, nurturing my body. (That part was soooooooo easy when I was pregnant — I imagined them nurturing the artist formerly known as Lil Smudge.) And then I imagine the exhales taking waste and toxins out of my body.

Usually that has me asleep within less than 5 minutes. (Part of the trick is that I usually read until I’m very tired. If I’m not exhausted, it can take the full 5 minutes.
But at 3:30 am, already half-asleep, it’s harder to avoid my own demons.

After ten minutes of torturing myself, I admitted that I was awake and nothing was going to change that, so I got up and turned on the coffee.

The fax wants me to buy stock in some Chinese company. So I filed a righteously indignant junk fax complaint with the FCC.

Then I finished re-reading the book I was re-reading. (Page, by Tamora Pierce.)
Now I’m avoiding my participation in NaNoWriMo.