sleep | BulgingButtons

“You can’t hoot with the owls and then soar with the eagles.”

This quote, attributed to Hubert Humphrey, vice president under Lyndon B. Johnson, is displayed prominently on my mother’s refrigerator. It shares space with, “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips,” and a warning not to eat processed meats, which have not been a part of her diet for as long as I can remember. I guess better safe, than sorry.

Personally I don’t agree. With any of it. I also don’t agree with covering your refrigerator in quotes, clippings, and inane magnets, but that’s another story all together.

Let’s get back to the owls and eagles thing. I have to assume that once upon a time it made sense for human beings to wake with the sun and sleep in the darkness most of the time. Of course it would have depended on what old homo sapiens was up to. Planting and tending crops required daylight, while hunting might have been a better activity for twilight or later, depending on the prey.

I think we’re pretty much past all of that. Like it or not we live in a more or less 24 hour world now, at least in much of the world. We’re globally connected, so working across times zones frequently means that we’re connecting to one another at different times of the day and night. We also have far fewer restrictions on our activities based on time of day. You can buy your groceries, wash your car, or watch your favorite soap opera at 3 am if you desire.

Still, the whole world isn’t operating on the 24 hours open model. I’m a school teacher in a traditional school. The morning bell rings at 7:55 and by gum I better be ready when it does. In order for that to happen, and all of the things that lead up to it to happen, I have to be up by 5:25. It is unholy. Still, there are alternatives starting to emerge, such as online schools that operate with different schedules.

The world is moving away from the nine to five model. More people are telecommuting and more employers are recognizing that flexible scheduling can increase productivity, as our world economy continues to shift from manufacturing based to information based.

As for me, I’ve always thought that if I could go to bed at 2 am and wake at 9 am I would be at my most productive. Over the years, though, I’ve started waking earlier and earlier. Too many 5:25 alarms have warped my inner timepiece. Soar with the eagles, huh? Honestly, I’d rather be back in the nest.

6:00AM: the best hour of the day, or too close to your 3:00AM bedtime?

So there I was, minding my own business, asleep in my bed. The alarm has the audacity to wake me at its usual mocking time of 5:25. I hate you, 5:25. I hate you alarm. I hate early morning in general. It rubs me the wrong way. Anyway, I get up after just one touch of the snooze button and start my day. Woo hoo. I feel a little stiff, back a little sore. Hmm, maybe I slept funny. No big deal.

I shower, dress, and go about my business. I drive to work, do my teaching thing, and have a generally so-so kind of day. Then it starts. OW. My back starts spasming and siezing. Damn, this hurts! Fortunately I have already released the cherubs to the care of the music and PE teachers, and I have time to writhe in peace. Seriously, this f’ing hurts.

I leave, wince as I buckle my seatbelt, and gather my teen. He is sympathetic. Bless him. Then I head home to start dinner and face the evening. My sweetheart comes in the door with not only the rest of the dinner fixin’s, but relief for my crazy back. Ben Gay adhesive patches. I’m thrilled to see them. I had been hoping that there might have been a painkiller or two left over from my last surgery, but then I remembered that I was prescribed a very small amount of those… I was rationing them from the start.

We finish dinner and he puts one on me. OH! It feels like ice cold goo is being applied to your back, then it almost instantly turns warm. Not overly warm though. It helps. So does the ibuprophen. I’m a bum all evening, barely moving at all.

I get ready for bed, changing patches (with sweetheart’s help, it’s hard enough to put something on your back, but when it’s painful to twist, well, that’s another problem all together), and hoping that I will sleep. I do.

The alarm rings at 5:25. Dammit. I hate that alarm. But I can move. Yes, it still hurts, but the stabbing sensation is gone. Thank goodness for ibuprophen, a wonderful man, and a gooey feeling bandage. Like my mom says, “getting older sucks.” That may be true much of the time, but it sure beats the alternative.