I’d blame it on DST, but that won’t fly. The night of the actual time change, I admittedly stayed up until midnight-really-eleven, and didn’t roll out of bed until what they laughingly call ten-thirty. But Sunday night is followed inexorably by Monday morning, so I really needed to get some shuteye.
And apparently I didn’t. If I got half an hour of sleep between 10:30 (bedtime) and 6:00 (alarm), I don’t remember it. What I do remember is back and forth from bedroom to medicine cabinet, wondering what else I could take without triggering some horrible drug reaction. I was, by 4:15 or so, desperate enough to take a whiff of Vicks VapoRub.
I managed to work through half past noon, at which point I sensed that my vision was blurry and becoming more so, in which case I’d better go home now. Which I did. I came home, took about a two-hour nap during which I didn’t sleep anywhere near two hours, and blew off the rest of the day.
I’m hoping this does not portend the return of the insomnia that drove me to despondency three years ago. Things did not go badly last night, so I am at least slightly hopeful.