Sleep. I need sleep.
In the interest of curiosity, I decided to stop taking benedryl at 10 p.m. every night. Since I no longer have to get up to feed and drug a large furball (Max can wait, and if he has to pee, he has a litterbox), it’s not imperative that I get to sleep at what normal people would think of as a normal bedtime. With that in kind, I figured I could stay up as late as my body naturally wants to, and I’d fall asleep.
So, this will only be night 3 without sleep assistance, but the last two nights have been a craptacular failure. The first night I woke at least 15 times, but part of that was because of Max, who decided I was much more comfortable to sleep on than the actual bed itself. Last night it took me a very long time to get to sleep—my brain just would not shut the fuck up—and then I woke up another 4 or 5 times. Not a biggie, but every time I woke up my brain started up again, and I struggled to get back to sleep.
I was so freaking tired all day, I figured I’d be ready for bed around 9 tonight. Phffft. It’s almost midnight, and while I’m tired, I can tell I won’t fall asleep easily.
So I’ll stay up and work a little. And hope that when I do go to bed, I’ll fall asleep and stay asleep. And then that Max doesn’t decide that he’s starving at 7:30. A hungry Max is a loud Max.
I’ll give it a week. If I’m still waking up a bazillion times a night, I’ll go back on the benedryl. Only reason I’m so gung ho to get off it is I’ve read it may hamper weight loss. Well, cripes, I’d like to improve my weight loss, not hamper it.
Oh yeah. Calling my house before 11 a.m. is cause for justifiable homicide.
Or at the very least, worthy of a sever beating with a wet noodle.