The long hand was racing; there was no other explanation for the amount of time it was taking me to fall asleep. Over an hour now. I thought I’d figured it out and had exercised my ass off during the day: two long walks, weights and stretches in between a full day’s work from home. I barely sat down all day and I was exhausted when I finally got into bed at eleven pm.
So why can’t I go to sleep, damn it?
As usual my brain was not helping: neurons were firing like crazy with pictures of my boss Tara looking exasperated on Zoom at my reporting of the lack of progress on the Anderson file. COVID had affected supply chain and communication, making international group projects a handful. Tara knew that, so I’d tried not to take her loud voice and wild hand gestures personally.
I closed my eyes to stop watching the damned clock and tried to think of something soothing instead of irritating. Ah…the massage Vic gave me after dinner. His strong hands had worked miracles on my arms and shoulders in the few minutes he had before leaving for his shift at the hospital. With a quick kiss on the top of my head, he was gone too soon.
I’d read somewhere that it isn’t a good idea to do exercises right before going to bed, so I cleaned up after dinner and did some slow stretches instead. I groaned and moaned as overworked body parts objected to even that movement, and soon Griffon was meowing alongside me. Maybe my sounds were cat sounds? “Hey, buddy. You giving me a hand here or simply being a cat?” He brushed his fluff against my face as I leaned over to touch my toes and then left as abruptly as he’d arrived. Cats.
I could smell the day’s efforts so decided a hot bubble bath would be just the thing to ease me into deep slumber. Ahhh… I swirled my hands through the water and watched the bubbles follow their path, feeling the shifting temperature of the water with their movements. I began to massage my sore thighs with my own hands. Giving yourself a massage isn’t as effective, though, is it? I sighed and slipped further into the water. Maybe I’d just sleep in the tub.
Tomorrow’s headlines: “Local lawyer found smiling and dead in her tub.” Ha! I made my way to bed. I’d bought this expensive bed because I wanted to believe all the promises of “the best night’s sleep you’ll ever have”. So far false advertising ruled.
My eyes had begun watching the big hand on the clock again. Only five hours before I had to get up and start over again. I focused on the second hand instead and began counting..nine, eight, seven…drowsy…six…ooh…sleepy…yay…deserve a hand for perseverance…Griffin on my legs, his cat hands kneading calf muscles….mmmm…g’night….