I have Sunday night anxiety and insomnia, because of course I do.

It’s currently 1:25 am on Monday morning.

A big, loud thunderstorm rolled through earlier, so Bizzy is hiding under my bed. He’s such a scaredy cat. It’s so cute.

Today I swam naked in a huge pool in the middle of the forest surrounded by a bunch of strangers. It felt liberating.

I also got to pet a duck.

And swam with frogs.

I peed in front of my friends.

It was an interesting day for sure.

And now I’m just lying here wishing I could fall asleep. I have court in the morning. And labs at the cancer center.

Tonight (Monday) is the only night this week that I don’t have plans, so I desperately need to get my introvert on.

D says I’ve become even more introverted this past year, and I believe that to be accurate.

I tend to feel bad on Monday mornings due to lack of sleep. I already have a raging headache that Advil, Tylenol, and Oxy hasn’t touched.

Oh and that sleeping pill I took seems to have been a big old dud. Obviously.

I may just go into the living room and read until I fall asleep. D is sleeping soundly and I don’t want to wake him. He has a busy and important week ahead on the work front.

It may seem otherwise, but I’m actually quite happy. I’m just really fucking tired.

I’m excited to get our kids back tomorrow.

That’s all she wrote. 😘