Slumber of the Insomniac

Anonymous

She pulls back the pristinely folded sheets and steps into bed, switching off the comforting yellow light from thenightstand. Darkness fills the room and envelops her until only her thoughts are visible.

Nope. She didn’t want that.

With a note of agitation, she squeezes her eyes shut and turns over in her bed a few times, trying to find a comfortable spot.

Sleep. Why was it so hard?

She was able to solve dozens of overlapping patient cases a day and take care of herself and all others under the roof, but a simple human task that all 7.2 billion people engaged in on the daily suddenly loomed over as an obstacle.

Closing her eyes felt wrong. She wrapped her arms around her knees, which evoked a sense of the fetal position. Maybe I am still a child? How am I an adult professional? Sleep was for children; she had things to do, more problems to solve. Wasn’t there something left on the to-do-list that she had skipped over? Her fingers quickly clasp for her phone. Scrolling. Nope. Artificial light is bad for the circadian rhythm.

Squeeze eyes shut. Phone back on nightstand. 

Okay. We can do this.

Hours and hours crawl by and as dawn creeps in she drifts into a restless slumber....

The next she wakes up heavy-headed. Folds back the sheets as pristinely as a capable woman would.

Sleep threatens her existence as she starts the new day.