insomnia

Sleep is over-rated.

I tell myself this when I can't.

It is an old lady thing for me.

I die around 11.

Sooner if I lay down.

Or if I get into a movie 

I am loving that I haven't taped

then, I miss the last 10 minutes

and awaken just as the credits roll.
I sleep great for about 3-4 hours
and then I am bug-eyed.

It has been this way for the last ten years.

I tried the meds...

Lunesta, Ambien, etc.

I don't like them.

Plus, they are to be shot-term fixes...

not to be used for a decade. 
Exercise doesn't change it.

These hormones are dying, mostly dead,

but they like to have a party in the night, 

while the world is sleeping.

Our bedroom is upstairs.
Stuart is oblivious to my shenanigans.
He knows I get up.
He says he hates it, but he doesn't join me.
It is okay.
I like my "me " time.
I am productive.
I read, catch up on blogs,
do laundry, mop floors,
and watch television.
There are 300 infomercials.
I have seen them all.
I have purchased a few.
I have returned most. 
About the time the chickens rise,

I am ready for a nap.
Sometimes I get one.
Sometimes I don't.
I tend to go about with my eyes looking

like 2 burnt holes in a blanket most days.
Concealer is my friend.
When I read to the littles 
in the afternoons
I am a narcoleptic.
I drag butt.
I am dying in the witching hour of 2 p.m.
Then I get my second wind, and all is good...
only to repeat the cycle all over again.
But, enough of this blather
I've got 70's sitcoms to watch!