As though of you who tune in regularly to My Pet Blog know, I've been suffering from insomnia of late. My overeager overactive mind is keeping me awake and no amount of sleeping pills (all right, in truth, I have not tested that theory and have no actual intention of testing that theory. It's hyperbole, people.) seems to be able to quiet it.
So I've decided that I need to try, really try, to stick to a sleeping schedule. Go to bed at the same time at night and then get up at the same time in the morning (Mischa will be thrilled. She's a creature of habit if there ever was one. That's a polite way of saying she's an anxiety ridden OCD dog if there ever was one.). Last night I went to bed at 11pm, having taking a sleeping pill an hour earlier. I was still awake after midnight. I was awake again at 4am when the cat, who had managed to stay hidden during my cat exodus, was amusing herself by running back and forth across the bed and then knocking over the picture frames on the bureau. I was awake again at 6am when Mischa realized it was 6am and that we'd be getting up soon. Mischa amused herself by running back and forth across the bed too. She's a little heavier than the cat so she's harder to ignore.
We got up at 7am and by 7:30, when the bed was calling my name, I resisted and started a load of laundry and got on the computer.
At 7:45, I took Sebastian and went to Dunkin' Donuts for hot chocolate.
I haven't had a caffeinated beverage since 2005 when I came home from Russia. Drank a lot of coke in Ekaterinberg and Moscow so I came home with the intention of giving up caffeine. And I did.
But you know what? Caffeine is good. Caffeine is swell. I rediscovered this as I downed my medium hot chocolate and my two double chocolate donuts. Double chocolate donuts, by the way, are equally swell. One of them had jimmies on it, shaped like little shamrocks. Festive. And swell.
But now, four and a half hours later, I'm suffering from withdrawal. I could tell the exact moment it started to fade. I was in the car and stuck at the end of my road, waiting to make a right hand turn onto the main strip, stuck behind some frakking idiot who was trying to make a left hand turn. From the right hand lane. And because I called him a lot worse than a frakking idiot, I knew the caffeine buzz was on its way out.
Fatigue is easing its way back in and I have nothing with which to fight it. It's a good thing I already went out and did the daily errands because I'd never be able to muster up the energy or desire to do it now.
Which probably does not bode well for my afternoon writing plans. I plan to be creative. I plan to be productive. I plan to write at least a complete sentence in my synopsis. I have decided to forge on ahead, regardless of who is (or is not) reading my manuscript. I have decided to give myself a deadline and consequences should I not meet this deadline. The deadline is April 30th. The consequence for the failure to reach this deadline will be that I shall not be allowed to read any other novels other than those written by one Miss Jane Austen until the failure is remedied. I'm hoping my absolute and total lack of interest in reading anything written by Miss Jane Austen shall help spur me on to success. We'll find out.
Here's my horoscope for today:
It is true that success goes to the persevering. And yet it is also foolish to continue down a path that is clearly not working. So, should you be tenacious, or should you change your approach? You'll know for sure by Monday.
You mean I have to wait that long?
This weekend, Mischa and I are going back to school. A new class is starting at our obedience school so we're going. Sebastian does not get to go because I am only one person and this is not the type of class in which one person can handle two dogs. If it was a tracking (as in search and rescue) class or an agility class, I could do it. But with a straight up obedience class, one dog per handler works best. And since Mischa is a never ending source of energy and Sebastian is a newly minted ass-biting asshole, Mischa gets to go. Of course, Mischa will be the perfect little Malinois everyone there thinks she is. Everyone who doesn't live with her and only sees her at obedience school thinks she's a perfect little Malinois. If only they knew...