Chronic Christmas Morning Jitters

A switch has been flipped. Hallelujah AMEN, I’ve finally (re)joined the ranks of the sleeping! 


Kind of.
 
 I sometimes have insomnia. And it blows. But the past few months I’ve enjoyed a delicious sleepfulness. I have somehow learned - sans aids! - how to will my melatonin forth.

It’s been pretty great. Wonderful in fact. But, per usual, all things good things must come to an end. And lately I have been experiencing something I’m calling the Christmas Morning Jitters.

I am utterly spent when the day ends at 5 o’clock. But I go to the gym. I make dinner. I go out. I read a book. I catch up on DVR, on Netflix, on magazines. I talk on the phone. I text. I blog. I run myself ragged and wish for nothing more than to curl up in my ridiculously comfy bed and sleep sleep sleep.

(I sometimes think sleep is my most favorite thing in the world. Then Ri’s charming smackdown reverberates in my ears: “You can sleep when you’re DEAD!”

This is true.)

But apparently I’s back to square one in the sleep department. Every night feels like Christmas Eve, I tell you! No matter how exhausted I am. 

It’ll be 12 a.m., say, and I want to drift away into dreamland. But oh no, wait. Actually I don’t want to. Not exactly. Who knows WHY, but I’ll excited about the next day, or there will be something else I’d rather be doing. A pastime more desirable than laying horizontal (in a G-rated way).

It’s so ironic that as soon as I’m able to pass out with little-to-no coaxing, I don’t want to. That snoozing suddenly seems so pointless. Such a drag. That I, Katie Parry, Queen of 10:30-Lights-Out Land, would rather stay awake than get me some zzzzz’s.

As the hours roll by on the fluorescent clock that lights up my apartment (my shitty broken cable box - is that an 8? a 6? no, it’s a 5), I honestly feel like a kid waiting for Santa Claus. But deep down, I know it’s not even gonna be a good Santa. It’s like I am looking forward to a drunken, polyester donning, flammable beard wearing imposter of a St. Nick!
Does this recurring phenomenon happen to anyone else? I mean, I know there is pretty much nothing super special about the coming day. And it’s not like I forgot to do something at work. I’m not going on vacation. There’s no cause for any additional anxiety (aside from the daily norm).
And yeah, I realize that the story is going to start back up on the page I left off on in my book. That my DVR can be counted on to remember where I paused a show. My Facebook page will not be deleted. No Dankes! will remain intact and live to judge another day!
And yet - I don’t want to sleep, my mind is that excited. Ain’t no sugarplums dancing in my head!

Oh no. My mind bounces like a pinball from thoughts of pseudo fictitious candy canes to stockings to the roast beast.

It cracks an incessant whip over the rest of my body, willing unrest. And, yet, this is a somewhat welcome wakefulness.

That is, of course, until the alarm goes off and the only thing me and my stupid crazy mind gets is a D-rated, sans presents & kielbasa workday.

I am crazy.