Sleep avoids me
Jul. 29th, 2007 12:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alcippeMy tongue feels like wool; I am seriously dehydrated but seem to have an aversion to water. Or maybe my aversion is to the effort it would take to get up and drink some. I wish sitting didn't hurt so much, although it's getting better. Dancing last night didn't hurt half so much as it did last week. But. It still hurts. I wish I was more flexible, I wish I could put my leg behind my head like a dancer, just like Madonna is that great photo where she's wearing blue shoes. You know the one.
Maybe if I did Yoga I could be flexible like that. It's uncomfortably warm in here, the air is off and the windows are closed. But it's the same problem as before; my aversion to effort and movement. Apparently, I would rather sit on my injured ass than get up, drink water, or turn on the air. I should go to bed. I should turn on the air and lay myself down, just let the hum and fan and blowing air lull me to sleep. Of course, then there is that fear. The fear that sleep won't come, that she will stand me up, give me the brush off, leave me hi and dri. I'll be laying there in sweaty sheets with painful joints and a racing mind and sleep will be just outside the door, giggling at me but she won't come in. On Saturday nights she never seems to come home on time, she stays out all night having fun and then drags in during the wee hours. It's not considerate.
Maybe if I did Yoga I could be flexible like that. It's uncomfortably warm in here, the air is off and the windows are closed. But it's the same problem as before; my aversion to effort and movement. Apparently, I would rather sit on my injured ass than get up, drink water, or turn on the air. I should go to bed. I should turn on the air and lay myself down, just let the hum and fan and blowing air lull me to sleep. Of course, then there is that fear. The fear that sleep won't come, that she will stand me up, give me the brush off, leave me hi and dri. I'll be laying there in sweaty sheets with painful joints and a racing mind and sleep will be just outside the door, giggling at me but she won't come in. On Saturday nights she never seems to come home on time, she stays out all night having fun and then drags in during the wee hours. It's not considerate.
