Tag: sleep

Have I mentioned that there’s something wrong with me?

I missed a celebration last night because I was asleep. I took some medication and just slept through it. Of course, the argument could be made that I just didn’t want to go. (And I didn’t.) But I had intended to go, and I didn’t.

I worked through the night to meet a contract deadline that I’d (somehow) forgotten until reminded. And I mean that I worked until 7 am to finish the documents, construct the paperwork, and send them to the client. But I met my deadline.

So, instead of going to a morning breakfast event, I opted to get some sleep. I was supposed to have three more meetings today, and I figured I’d need at least a few hours sleep before tackling the rest of my day. So I missed an event where I could have (possibly) made contact with someone who is a work lead. I needed at least a little bit of sleep.

Of course, two of my three appointments cancelled during the morning. I could have gone to the morning event and gone home to sleep before my evening appointment. But I lost my chance. And my day went sideways.

The worst part is that I didn’t even get to get that much sleep. Just three hours after falling asleep I was woken up by my sister who reminded me that she and I had agreed to go shopping today. Instead we went to lunch, but sleep was over.

Somehow, I think, I could have managed my time better. Somehow I need to do better.

Image source: alinanatasa / Pixabay

The things my friends may not know about me

I’m easily distracted. I’ll pick up my phone to look for something and realize ten minutes later, after putting it down, that I didn’t look for the item.

I’m very bad with money. I get a little bit and the compulsion to spend it is immediate and often almost overwhelming. I’m shocked I’ve managed to save any money at all.

I don’t remember what I wore yesterday, or last week, or to the last gala. When I work in an office I keep a journal documenting what I wore and when. Otherwise I run the risk of wearing the same outfit two weeks in a row. While that doesn’t bother me, it seems to matter to others.

At least 30% of the time I have to drive back to my house after leaving because I can’t remember if I closed the garage door. Usually I’ve only made it a block or so from the house, but I just can’t remember doing it. I’ve never found the garage door open when going back to check.

I have a hard time remembering faces or names. I worked with someone for 12 years and can’t tell you the names of her parents, siblings, or nieces and nephews. And she talked about them all the time. I met someone on at least six different occasions and still couldn’t recognize her the next time I saw her; once I clued in on who she was, the details of the conversation are easy to remember. This happens to me all the time.

I consider lies to be acceptable as long as they are for the greater good. Sometimes my convenience qualifies as the greater good.

Every time I do something there’s a thought in the back of my head telling me I will fail. The bigger the project or task, the louder it gets.

I am colder than you think.

When I lived alone I often realized that I had spent the entire weekend without speaking to another human being. Sometimes I realized that I hadn’t spoken out loud, at all, in those two days.

I have a mild hoarding problem. I once had a panic attack over the thought of throwing out a box of things I didn’t need. I made myself do it anyway.

I’m a horrid housekeeper. One of the main reasons I don’t have people over more often is that I’ll never get the house clean enough for company. If I truly cared, I’d clean better. I just don’t want to be judged.

I’m not comfortable with the way I look. I hate that I buy into it, but there’s always going to be a part of me that wants to look closer to the ideal of beauty.

I have three closets full of clothes. Yes, three.

I own more than a 20 shades of lipstick, and at least half of then are some variation of red. I rarely wear them, now.

I can be mean and petty. And I’m fine with it.

I obsess over big decisions.

I have weird sleeping patterns … which means I find myself writing blog posts at 4 a.m.

Image source: realworkhard / Pixabay