I need oblivion

Well, not forever. This isn’t some desperate cry for attention before I do something stupid.

I just want to be blissfully unconscious for seven or so hours every night. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

Except I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep for nigh on six months now.

And it’s killing me. At first it was the panic over my marriage ending that kept me awake.

Now I’m no longer panicked about the marriage ending, but the insomnia continues.

I should have slept like the dead on Friday night after my epic move, but no, I had eyes like saucers until at least 2.30am. And then I was woken again at 5.30am by the pitter-patter of doggie toenails on the linoleum.

Yesterday was zombie-like. Everything hurt. Bruises all over. Giddy with fatigue. Throat sore, better not be a bug coming on because I have PLANS for next weekend involving French champagne and I want to be tip-top for them.

Talking to people about not being able to sleep is annoying because everyone’s an expert on the subject. Apparently it’s just about breathing deeply or listening to apps or meditating.

Fark all that, it won’t bloody work. I am way too wound up.

One of the things that will always shite me way up the wall is that Husband tells me he sleeps like a freaking baby every night. Where is the justice in that?

There’s none.

I just have to get on with it and hope that now the move is over and the ties to Husband continue to be cut, peace will come. And with peace will come sleep.

Blessed sleep. Please come.

And, while you’re at it, please bring the internet. I miss the internet. I am hopeless at blogging without it. All too hard on the iPad. So you’ll have to make do with no pictures or songs of the day or HouseGoesHollywood for the immediate future. Normal service will resume shortly.