Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Momma Said Knock You Out...

I suck at life, for serious.

My brain has been in a haze lately... I think it's probably because I've been needing to take sleep medication on a nightly basis for a while now. I've been seriously considering cutting it off cold-turkey and just letting the natural exhaustion take over, but that usually takes... about a week.

So I decided that before taking such a drastic measure, I should try some other methods first. I decided to work out more (because anything is more than nothing, right?) and maybe... just maybe I'd be so tired that I'd pass out.

It's not just the insomnia. I've also been having a shitty few days (weeks) and I wanted to take out some aggression. I just knew that increased physical activity was going to be the perfect solution.

I was going to do the Wii Fit program, but I got mad at the cartoon balance board when it criticized me for not using the program in a week.

Hey, you little turd-fuck, I get enough judgement passed on me from REAL people on a daily basis. I don't need your flat, balance-board ass telling me that I haven't worked out in a week. Also? You just made me feel more aggressive, when I'm trying to mellow out Woodstock style.

Epic FAIL.

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Okay, I'm all better now.

So, like I was saying, I really believed that working out more would knock me out and make me all nice and shit, but I'll be damned if I let some little white cartoon rectangle psyche me out. That... and variety is the spice of life... and such.

I decided I'd try something new. Like, brand spankin' new. Like, I bought this over a month ago and still haven't taken off the cellophane wrapper new. Hello, Gold's Gym Cardio Workout!

The Gold's Gym Wii Cardio workout...is basically... like Tae Bo? But for the Wii? You use the "wiimote" to jab, uppercut, hook, and cross punch as well as ducking, sidestepping, and weaving to avoid punches.

Let's just say this: I'm like Muhammad Ali. With boobs.



You definitely don't want to mess with me in the Wii Fight Club (First Rule: Do not talk about Wii Fight Club).

An hour flew by as I uppercutted my way through the beginner levels - PS. I'm sore as hell today, so it must have been a somewhat decent workout.

After my workout, I showered, ate dinner, watched some TV... the uszh (Um... that's supposed to be my phonetic spelling of the first half the word "usual." I just didn't know how to go about spelling that. Now you know.)

Aaannd then it was bed time. I thought about bypassing the Ambien route and just trying to sleep on my own, but I figured that it was unwise to try jumping that hurdle during the work week and that it would be a task best reserved for the weekend when I don't have to get up early or write myself reminders to "Go To Work." PS - Yes, I did remember to go to work. Ha. The funniest thing about this for me is the fact that this is my full time, 40 hour-a-week, Monday-Friday, typical 9-5 job. I don't work different shifts or weekends most of the time, so I really shouldn't need to write myself that reminder. Whatever, moving on.

Well, I guess I'm not doing a good enough job working out. Or I'm not working out hard enough. Or too hard. I'm not sure, all I know is that by 11:30 PM, laying in bed, my brain was like a live wire... keeping me awake until 2 am... when I finally got frustrated and gave up, going to lay on the couch to escape the grips of the monster that sleeps in my bed, also known as R.

When you are sleeping, dead to the world, there's really no problem, but when you are awake and trying to sleep - he's an absolute nightmare. (Sorry, hun. You know it's true.)

He's like George Foreman, all up in my grill, throwin' bows to my lumbar spine and kicking it like Tae Bo. In this case, "it" being my leg. He also likes to stick his ass out so it's way over on my side, and he does this weird breathing thing where he repeatedly exhales forcefully and loudly... until I "unconsciously" start coughing and kicking him in the shins.

You wanna go? Let's go. You kick me, I kick you right back! Punk.

So, around 2 AM I waved the white flag and resigned to the couch (we have a guest bedroom, but somehow I sleep better on the couch.)

Not long after I snuggled onto our micro-suede, I was out. Until this morning when I was awoken by a cold, wet dog nose in my face.

A wanted to tell me that it was morning and he was going to take a shit outside. How very exciting. Especially on a mere 4 hours of sleep. Surprisingly, today actually went pretty well, even with the insomnia. Even still, I know I need more sleep, so I'm pulling an intervention on myself, A&E style. Minus the cameras, and you know, the actual intervention part. Tonight I am giving the "no Ambien" method a try, but I'm sleeping on the couch... just in case. I'll keep you updated, because I live in a world where everyone gives a shit whether or not I get to sleep.

And on that note, I will bid you adieu. I owe you some mid-nineties T-Riffic diary entries tomorrow since I have been lax on that front these past few entries. Tomorrow, I will bitch about nothing and provide you only with sweet, sweet diary lovin'.


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