me, Us

Normal, Eh? What’s That?

Yesterday Mr. M and I were talking.  You know.  Like normal people who love each other sometimes do.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I am certainly not trying to imply that we are normal people.  I have a little more conscience (I still can’t believe that that’s how this word is spelt!!!) than that.   But we do occasionally go out of our way to act like normal people. You know… just for the fun of it.  Like for example, we sometimes just sit at a restaurant (again, I don’t know if we sit at a restaurant or in one but you get the general picture, don’t you?) and chat away about everyday issues.  Mostly my issues.  Sleep issues.  And yesterday happened to be one of those days.  We had big plans for the evening.  We wanted to go listen to this guy who is simply THE BEST at playing the Mandolin, but we wanted to go out for dinner first.  Being friday evening and all, we decided we could take Ka with us and it wouldn’t be such a big fuss if we stayed out late.  Yeah right!  Late indeed!  So much for our plans.  By the time we finished dinner, I looked like I had just been released from a POW concentration camp after being subjected to weeks of torture.  Sleep deprivation to be more specific.  And all this on a friday night. At 8:00pm!  To justify it just a teensy weensy bit, it was a good 1/2 hour past my usual bedtime but nah, I give up.  That certainly doesn’t justify it.  So, there we launched into the discussion on “10 Ways to Help Me Sleep Better”.  Mr. M suggested that I take a hot water bath a couple of hours before bed time.  That’s around the time I am trying to help Ka with the ridiculously complicated math problems that she gets for homework these days.  So, not possible.  Then he said I shouldn’t  look at any bright lights for at least 1 hour before my bedtime.  Which basically means that I should lock myself in a dark room about an hour before I want to sleep.  Good try Mr. M.  Damn good try but I am not going to hand you an hour’s peace on a silver platter like that.  It is my duty as your wife to nag you and gnaw at your brain while you eat your dinner (which of course, I prepare for you with great love and affection ;)) and I, for one, am not going to shirk my responsibilities like that.  The third suggestion was basically a slippery slope which I don’t want to go anywhere near for the simple reason that I’ve been there and I’ve done that and it wasn’t the least bit fun.  Writing to-do lists.  Oh no!  That’s a sure shot way of letting the OCD side of my personality take control of my world and rattle it hard enough to make every bit of normalcy in my life vaporise due to the heat produced by the friction caused by various aspects of my life crashing violently into each other!  So, thanks but no thanks. VERY. BAD. IDEA.

That’s about when I started to think that Mr. M now got the picture.  But could I have been wronger? I know ‘wronger’ is not a word.  But I just felt like typing it and I did.  So, just deal with it and get on with life.  B’coz some people have more serious issues to deal with.  For example, suggestions like, ‘you need to wipe out all the junk from your memory.  Your problem is you have way too many memories.”  Agreed.  That part I know.  Now, if you would be kind enough to tell me exactly how I should go about doing that.  Mr. M says that if I can do just that, I will be at peace with myself.  Like he constantly is.   Good for you and need I say that you did an awesome job of rubbing it in?  Anyway, Mr. M also claimed that once I could do that, I would sleep like a baby.  Actually, that is precisely my problem!  I sleep like a ‘baby’.  Don’t babies wake up screaming bloody murder every couple of hours?  Don’t some  babies suffer from night terrors?  Don’t babies need pin drop silence to stay asleep?  And I happen to sleep exactly like that.  What I need are  suggestions that will help me sleep like a normal adult.  Don’t get me wrong Mr. M.  I do appreciate all that you are trying to do for me here but I am quite surprised at how very little you know me after all these years (8 years 11 months and 3 days to be precise).  All your ideas, I am sure, will work like a charm for regular people but, remember, I am not regular.  Have you already wiped out my 9 extra-terrestrial antennae from your memory, Oh! Enlightened One?

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