In the midst of it, I would try remind myself that Z_Span really is wonderful, well nigh unto perfect really, except for this one small thing. And everybody does it, it’s not even a fault as such. Breathing. While sleeping. Sleeping next to someone who is not sleeping. Who is also breathing. Trying every form of deep breathing, relaxing, not thinking about thinking. Or breathing. Or tomorrow. Or yesterday. Or what time exactly it might be right now, right this minute, right this very second. Is it still yesterday, is it already tomorrow, how much time is there? how much chance I might still get some sleep?
Faced with the tick of a wind-up alarm clock, I got wound up. Hunted it down, wished the only tool I had were a hammer, so I could smash it quiet, into its own eternity. Hid it instead, trying to muffle it under all the clothes way at the back of a dresser drawer, in another room, on another floor.
Oh, relax why don’t you? Well, try harder.
Breath abated, I would check the clock, with its infernal digital button press beep mercifully silenced, and most likely turn off the superfluous alarm. When I could do it, I would get up, go to the guest room, or even the couch, site for the greatest naps over the years. Oh, a nap would be so perfect right about now! If I could just get a nap, just a little bit more sleep before the day has to start, that just might be enough to see me through. Oh, the unjustness. There are things I loved about getting up early, except for having to get up and finish getting ready to go to work. Where the clocks are always ticking.