I need a mother, methinks.

Not any run of the mill type mother though… more along the lines of the scheduling, uber-organized, “I’ve had a slew of children and could do this with my eyes closed and my hands tied to the doorknob with old shoestrings”  type of mother who would have no problem taking me in hand and teaching me how to sleep as normal people do.

Normal.

Heh.

It seems as if my body has decided to finally push me off that rocky ledge of sanity that I’ve been precariously balanced at the edge of for years by forgetting how to sleep.

Yes, dear reader, I’ve forgotten how to sleep.

And if the random bouts of woolgathering and inappropriate daydreams about purple rainstorms, Chuck Bass, and Jesus are any indication, I’m fairly certain that it’s making me CRAZY. (Dude- I can totally hear what you’re thinking right now… and, frankly, it hurts my feelings. A lot.)

Random fact: Alot is a town and nagar panchayat in the Ratlam district of Madhya Pradesh, India. A lot is the amount of times that I’ve managed to set my kitchen on fire by boiling water.

Granted, I’ve always been the  night owl… Needing a bit of peace from the roar of the maddening crowd that is my progeny (plus the man) (and the cat) (oh and the little dog that grew three feet and fifty pounds in a week too), the quiet found in that lovely space between midnight and 3 a.m. has always been a haven of sorts.

Now, however, thanks to a bout of asinine flu that put me severely behind on work and various other obligations that have me, well, obligated, that lovely space of three hours has become a hectic gap of four or five.

By the time that I am finished with whatever project it is that I set out to accomplish, I am, of course, too wired for sleep…

So I read.

A book.

A book that I can’t put down until I am finished- regardless if I’ve already read it a dozen times before. (Dude? Can still hear you over here.)

Which puts me just about the time that the kids need to be up and readied for school- the time that is supposed to mark the beginning of my day and the beginning of this obviously vicious circle of purple rains, Chuck Basses, and Jesuses (Jesi?)…

Which isn’t at all as fun as it sounds, believe it or not. (Although I won’t argue its potential.)

And since I can’t tightly swaddle and hold myself down in order to force a bit of much needed rest as easily as one might hope…

I need a mother, methinks.

One who could handle the situation with her eyes closed and her hands tied to the doorknob with old shoestrings.

One who has a slew of children and has seen this all before.

One who would tell me to quit all of this infernal whining, put down the damn book, close my eyes and go to gawddamned sleep already.

One who…

Oh…

Yeah.

Nevermind.