I’m okay. Or I will be.
Have you heard of spoon theory?
It’s a metaphor used to “measure” (intangibly) how much energy someone with a disability or chronic illness has. While you can’t literally measure energy this way, you’ll sometimes hear people saying things like:
“Hmm. I’m not sure I can go to that concert on Friday. I don’t have enough spoons left.”
“She wanted to go to the mall and out to eat, but I told her I didn’t have enough spoons to do both.”
Am I making sense?
Anyway, I feel very low on spoons. My ambien is working well, but left and right, people are telling me, “That’s addictive!” or “You’ll sleepwalk!” or “This causes night eating!” or “There’s memory loss associated with that!” I already don’t take the ambien on the weekends, just to give myself a break and to continue to gauge how much I “need” it. I know lots of people are much more in favor of natural supplements. Heck, I would be too … except that when I take them (or over-the-counter sleep aids), I feel like life is impossible in the morning. It’s as if the sun doesn’t rise. I can’t imagine climbing into the shower, let alone making it into work.
I took ambien last night. Plus a supplement, against my better judgement.
This morning, I couldn’t peel myself out of my bed until after noon. I hate that. And then I took a 2.5 hour nap. And plan to go to bed soon too. I feel like I have no spoons available, and there’s still a whole day of work left PLUS I have to work Saturday too.
I emailed with my editor today. She’s brilliant and lovely, but it always sends me into a tailspin. I wonder if I’ve conditioned myself this way. I am Pavlov’s dog. Ring the bell and I panic.
I need more plot. This is perpetually my problem in writing. I hate plot. I just want deep conversations and great kissing. And to learn something new.
Am I the worst writer in the history of the world?
Feels that way, a little bit.
I need to go sleep.