Yellow moon, shining in the same big sky

Tonight while I was working out at the gym, 'Yellow Moon," by the Neville Brothers, started playing on my iPod. As is my habit, I focused on the bass line, and when I did, it immediately stood out in my mind, a fluid orange-red line spiky with thumb-slapped syncopation, and I thought of an old friend who played bass like that. Once you start leaning on the bass line when you listen to music, you can never stop. The bass line is the canny guide that'll show you the back alleys, the local haunts of music that tourists who hear only the drums or melody will never know. I haven't heard from this friend in a very long time. One of the last times we spoke, he said he takes comfort in knowing the same sky arches over us both, each in our worlds on this earth. And I know the same horizonless sea of sound swirls around us too, waiting to be distilled and momentarily ordered into composition.

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I'm in the second week of following a program aimed at retraining my physical and mental rhythms, so I'll get back to sleeping normally. I kept a sleep diary all last week, which showed I was snoozing an average of five hours a night. Least number of hours was three, and then I got one night of a miraculous eight. Anyway, So this week's strategy is to schedule six hours for sleep, with a target daily wake-up time of 7:30 a.m.. I have a half-hour buffer on either side of that. This means I have a target lights-out time of 12:30 a.m., and I must set an alarm for no earlier than 7 a.m. and no later than 8, with an optimal wake time of 7:30. If I can't sleep, I must get up after 20 minutes, stay up for 30 minutes, then try sleeping again. If I have a rough night, I can nap the next day, but only for 15 - 45 minutes, and not at all after 3 p.m. After a little while on this schedule, the scheduled time for sleep will be increased to 6.5 hours. I'll report on any success or lack thereof. First report: I slept 6 hours last night. Woo! Right now I'm sipping some red wine, after having enjoyed a light cheese-and-apples dinner post-gym. 

Damnit. I got m'amed again.

I've been called "m'am" three times this week. The last time was a half hour ago, by the guy who handed me my pizza to go at the shop that's a block from my home. Being called "m'am" means you are officially no longer hot, if you ever were, except perhaps to French men, who are said to appreciate older women. Most days I feel attractive, and so the "m'am" thing doesn't bother me. But today, after getting only 3 hours' sleep last night, I do feel rather un-hot. Rather rampled. Slightly haggard. Ugh. 

I remember calling women "m'am" when I was in my 20s, and being sharply reprimanded.  Sheesh, I'd think. I was just trying to be polite. So I didn't snap at the young and handsome pizza guy tonight. I just smiled and took my box, turned on my heel and left, musing that I thought I'd been rather hiply dressed when I walked out of the front door to get dinner. 

The other night my husband saw a trailer for Brooke Shields' newish TV show, and he remarked "She looks really good, for her age." He nearly bled from the look I shot him. "What?" Then his face softened. "Ohhhhh. Yeah." Mmm-hmm. Not the best choice of words when you happen to have a wife who's seven years older than you are. He apologized with a hug, which I appreciated. But I did not feel kindred. As a man, my husband will not be faced with this particular issue until he's well into his 60s. Men are considered attractive years longer than women are.

It's lonely business mourning youth.

Struggling to sleep

I've been struggling with severe insomnia. Lack of sleep makes doing just the normal minimum each day a challenge. It also tends to change a person's personality. I've been a bit short-tempered, sometimes weepy, often frustrated by the mental fog that steals in during afternoons after near-sleepless nights, slowing down my thought processes and response times. An admission that I'm dealing with insomnia brings out the advisor in everyone. "Are you stressed out over something?" No (seriously, no). "Is it that your mind won't turn off?" No, I'm not obsessing over anything at work nor at home. "Try drinking warm milk!" I have. It tastes good. It does not help me sleep. "I took melatonin and I haven't had a problem since." I'm so happy for you. Wish it had the same effect on me. "Benadryl. Take Benadryl." Oh yes, my pal Bennie. It does knock me out. But then I spend the rest of the night in agony as my brain tries to fight its way back awake through the drug haze. It's worse than being fully awake. And I'm not keen to take strong sleep meds, because this can result in dependency issues.

Once in a while I get so exhausted that I do sleep eight full hours. And then the cycle begins again: stay awake until 1 or 2:30 a.m., then go to bed because I ought to, lie awake (sometimes with the added fun of restless leg syndrome. Woo!), get up after half an hour because that's what the sleep hygiene folks say you should do, wait until I'm even more exhausted, and try again. Sleep for 3-4 hours (if I'm lucky, 5). Then get up in time to drink some coffee and get to work. Last week my employer launched a new Healthy Lifestyle Program component that's supposed to help people overcome insomnia. So I signed up. I read the first chapter of the material, and I'm filling out a 1-week sleep diary. After that I can continue with the rest of the program. Wish me luck.