The Stories of our Lives

“When you have insomnia,
you’re never really asleep.
And you’re never really awake.” – Edward Norton, Fight Club

The butterflies of dreams, with the moths of sleep, and the air of insomnia, in a swirl of confusion. Might be caused by pregnancy (it takes credit for pretty much anything nowadays) or just stress, or both. In a more concrete way, it’s brought on by heat, hunger, back aches and such, moving baby, a radio song stuck in my head, Frank making some noise, or uncontrolled/unordered musings or recollections that wind their way into my semi-conscious state. But mostly I think it’s nothing at all. Maybe just a natural crash course on freaky sleep patterns, preparing my head for upcoming nights of nursing.

4:50AM. I think I’ll try catching that last hour now, before the gray of dawn takes its golden tones.