Insomnia - My Old Friend

I apparently have anything BUT a regular sleep schedule lately.  Says the girl typing at 3:50 AM.

I have had days where I sleep from 1 - 5 every day, twice a day.  Days where I wake up every two hours, and fortunately drift back to sleep.  Naps so deep that when I wake I am completely disoriented as to what day it is let alone what time of day it is. 

For the most part, I don't spend my days dragging, although I have come home from lunch for an afternoon nap or two on occasion.  So I guess I have to hope that my body is getting the sleep it needs.... even if it needs it, or takes it, at some strange hours. 

I had a friend in college - who I was quite jealous of because of this fact - who literally only needed and only got four hours of sleep  day.  I mean imagine how much work you could get done (because in college I still thought it was important to get work done) if you could stay up studying until 2 AM, and be back awake again at 6 AM?? I mean wow! 

Be careful what you wish for, folks! ;)

But tonight's insomnia, I'm fairly certain, is brought to me by the letter 'H' as in Holidays.  As you may recall, some of my family is coming to visit.  Woo hoo.. Oh, wait.  No.  Fortunately, I live practically across the street from the Mall where there's a hotel where they will stay so I don't have to have them stay literally in my house.

Because, apparently, I'm angsting over that. 

I actually live in a fairly nice sized space for a single person.  I lucked out in the housing department when I finally got to have my own space again after a year of living in various other people's homes after fleeing my own home of a decade.  I live in a stand-alone house, that actually has copious amounts of space, that I have managed to expand into.  Much more than I ever needed.  It's a two-bedroom home, and the front bedroom is essentially a storage area (read junk room/pretend-office) and the back bedroom is actually 15 foot wide, so large enough to not only have a sleeping area, but also to have a sitting area, too.  The bathroom is ridiculously huge, and the kitchen is fairly large, although limited counter space, too.  And I am blessed with an extra back room - which I've thought of as a mud room / pantry until I got a washer / dryer given to me this past year, and now it's the mud room / pantry / laundry room.  No dining room in the house, but there is a living room. 

It's a lot of space for one person, which has been nice.  Some of the apartments I looked at before I found the house were a lot cozier, including one place which was essentially three rooms, no doors, in a row - the living room area, connected to the bedroom in the middle, with the kitchen on the opposite side.  So, if I had had company, they would have to traipse through my bedroom area to get to the kitchen, which I didn't like particularly much.  Plus the rooms were small, and the landlord mentioned that he thought the woman next door on the same floor might have a lot of paid evening guests. 

The next place would have been nice if I were about, oh, say, a foot taller.  There was no air conditioning, and the windows that could open were all situated quite high on the walls- difficult for me to open to get any kind of cross-breeze going.  It was two bedrooms, but that was it - two bedrooms and a kitchen.  And in the kitchen, again, apartment was designed for a giant, I seriously seriously would not have been able to reach them without a step stool.  I may have been able to access the bottom shelf of them, but I'm not sure even that. 

I have lived in a house for a good deal of my life - although I have lived in an apartment, too.  I admit, I prefer not sharing walls with others because you have the illusion, at least, that you can be louder.  One twitter friend complains regularly about the boy who lives under her and the noise he makes.  I can make considerable noise here - even vacuum in the middle of the night - and not worry about waking anyone or bothering anyone. 

The yard here leaves a LOT to be desired.  Some of that is my fault, because I never seem to have a working lawnmower.  As soon as someone gives me theirs that I have been borrowing, it no longer seems to work.  (Seriously, has happened more than once!).  But it is also quite uneven, and there are a lot of dips and holes and places waiting for me to sprain my ankle.  Always an exciting prospect when you have no health insurance. 

But here's the thing about my house.  It's furnished somewhat sparingly for one.  It is in many ways like a large master bedroom suite.  There is plenty of wonderful space for ME to be comfortable.  But not enough space to really share with anyone else or to entertain.  So I don't.  No-one even tries to come into my house, and I've grown quite comfortable with that.  Perhaps a bit too comfortable, but comfortable nonetheless. 

My house is furnished with cast-aways and give-aways from folks from my church.  The bed I sleep on was someone else's guest bedroom bed that they decided to replace right around the time I was moving in.  The frame is off because there's a metal part that sticks out that I can't figure out how to make go in.  It's pretty basic - nothing more than the metal support frame.  I have two dressers from a friend who left the country and just returned (and wants one back?), and a nice oversized chair in the bedroom from a friend whose wife didn't agree with his purchase. 

In the living room, there is a love-seat sized couch - two people can sit on it cozily - and a setee  that I was basically storing for the friend who had left the country for a year.  It smells (faintly now) of cat piss, and I don't recommend it as a place for anyone to rest upon.  But my friend has apparently grown immune to the smell, and so for her, it is a lovely piece from her house that she will want returned (I keep hoping) some day. 

So, if I invite the folks in, I have no place for them to sit comfortably to stay and hang.  There is not enough room for a tree - I have a fairly pathetic desktop tree that makes Charlie Brown's Christmas tree look lush.  No place to hang the stockings - although I do have one, and just received another last night at a party.  There is no television in my house - no TV to watch any games on or any Christmas specials or even movies on DVD.  I watch all my stuff on my computer.

Then there's the subject of Christmas dinner.  I have had several friends ask me or comment upon how I'll now be responsible for Christmas dinner.  To which I reply to them, I don't think so.  I purchased a small 2' diameter (maybe four foot, but 2' width when the "leaves" are down) table for my kitchen with two little stools from Wal*Mart after living here for six months.  There is no room for more than two to eat. 

Plus, it isn't as if I am much of a cook. 

So, I am having a little angst.  I did manage to keep from inviting them in their last visit without much trouble or awkwardness at all - and frankly, I'm hoping for a repeat of that.  Because my living space is designed for one, or perhaps one + one guest.  It works for me.  But it doesn't work in this kind of setting.

My opinion, generally, is that they invited themselves - they shouldn't expect me to do these things, and for the most part I think that's a pretty reasonable opinion, and in line with their expectations.  On Christmas day, I am planning a Jewish Christmas with a friend of mine (who is Jewish, of course) where we will have Chinese food and see a movie.  On Christmas Eve, they will be forced to go to my church. :)  That solves the Christmas dinner issue. 

But my fear - perhaps unwarranted, since last time they were so accomodating and didn't look for an invite in - is that by NOT inviting them in, they will think I am hiding something.  And maybe I am - I do feel protective over my space, even though it doesn't entirely reflect me since I've only spent money on the kitchen table, the refrigerator and a set of shelves for the pantry, and everything else was given to me and fit in where it could.  I have three desks in three different rooms!  None of which have chairs with which to sit at.  I don't want them to judge my ability to thrive based upon my living space, because it may not send the message that I have healed and recovered well enough for their standards.  They already wonder what I'm doing in this small town... and even offered unsolicited this past month to move me some place else. 

They are well meaning.

But they are giving me insomnia.   And forcing me to write long rambling posts (because usually my posts are so short and pithy.. ;) ) Bleah...

(And why am I NOT surprised that I already have a label on the side for Insomnia..? Ah, my old friend... we spend too much time together..)