One sign that I have been struggling a bit over the last couple of weeks is my sleeping.
I could sleep 24 hours, 7 days a week and be perfectly content. Now, I would be pretty deep into a depression slip or severely anemic, which has happened before, but I would be content.
I had just started to wake up relatively on time before the problems of the last few weeks. My days of being an early riser are over but after hitting snooze, 1 or 2 times, I had no problem getting my ass out of bed.
I slept through three alarms this morning. Gah!
I wake up in a panic at 8:15 (when I have to be to work at 9, in Boston, through traffic if I drive or on the subway, as I prefer). That gives me 15 minutes to shower, make coffee, feed my Boots, get dressed in somewhat matching clothes, teeth brushed and basically out the door. I am like a chicken without a head.
I hate it.
I get to work with two mismatched socks. My hair looks like a big red mess or a flat red mess. I have no make up. I look like the toy that Boots was playing with over night that he put on me. Things get missed.
I like to take a good shower and preferably make breakfast at home or have something to bring to work. I want to look somewhat decent and actually wear make up. I hate being late. It is the total opposite of early Jen. I used to be early to EVERYTHING. The early bird gets the worm.
The early bird puts the blanket over my head and hides.
This is what I need:
Boots just curls up next to me and purrs.
Any tips if you are dealing with this?
In other news, I’m Blogging About Mental Health Day is May 16th. Mark your calendars!