I’ve been working at the new day job for a little over six weeks and I’m loving it, plus they seem to be loving me. The pay is good and I’m working from home. Probably will be too until at least the end of July and maybe longer.
But with doing a bunch of other, littler jobs before that, although the pay was lousy, I had tons of time to write.
Then there’s the insomnia. I go to sleep okay, but wake up in the middle of the night. Sometimes I’m able to roll over and eventually go back to sleep, but other nights, I’m up for a couple of hours.
Last night, I forced myself to stay in bed, but it seemed like it took forever to doze off again. I finally was in the space to really sleep when it was time to get up.
Fortunately, there’s this magic stuff called coffee, so for most of the day, I’m okay. I start to fade about mid-afternoon and sometimes it’s a struggle to keep focused until the end of my work day.
For the past two days, my granddaughter’s been over. It’s hard for a just turned five year old to understand that just because Grandpa’s home doesn’t mean he can play. I try to explain that her Mom and Dad have to work, and that the only difference for me is that I get to do it at home. She doesn’t always buy it.
She likes to sneak into my office when my wife isn’t looking. Sometimes, it’s just to give me a hug, but today, she “hid” in the corner as if my wife couldn’t find her.
We had lunch together and danced to her kiddie music, but then I had to get back to the office.
When I get off of work, I do have some time to hang out with her before her Mom comes to pick her up. She enjoys that but then it’s over.
After dinner, I always imagine I’ll get some writing done. Sure, I have the time, but I’m beat. Too late for more coffee, but my head feels like it’s stuffed with boiled inner tubes and rusty steel wool.
About the best I can manage is scanning social media, which is always a mistake because it’s always a major drag.
Then eight o’clock or so rolls around and I pack it in. Yes, that’s early, but I try to be up by 4 or 5 so I can be “at work” before 7. Glad my commute is about 2 seconds and I only have to shave if I have a video conference.
I hope my body and brain make the adjustment soon. When the day is young, I long to write, but can’t because I’m working. By the end of the day, my power cells are drained.
6 thoughts on “Day Job and Insomnia”
There are three things I do when I have trouble sleeping. (There is a fourth that has sometimes been helpful in the past, but I doubt it’s effectiveness for most people; I’d take a couple aspirin.) Benadryl is a pretty sure thing. I don’t want to take that too often, so I sometimes take melatonin. Whichever I use, if either, I subsequently often watch informative videos on YouTube. Not entertaining videos, like anything in a fictional series. (I find I go on to the next episode and the next with anything along that line.) I like lectures or conversations; I can run any of them again when I’m awake if I find I’ve missed most of one. Or however many times… if I awake in the middle of the night, I can just start it again. Not sure how practical that might sound to you, but it works for me.
It is not easy to find energy to write when you are working full time, James. I have the same problem. Maybe you should try sleeping tablets to break the insomnia cycle. My hubby did that and it worked well.
Don’t want to use drugs. Got not bad sleep last night but still feel a little dopey today. Got the day off because the U.S. Independence Day is tomorrow.
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I feel you. Real estate gives me some days with just admin to do from home and other days I’m driving all over town for 10 hours. The writing is up and down. I tell myself, “This job is paying for my writing life.”
Must be a tough life. Don’t think I could do real estate myself. Glad it’s working out for you.
A new job can cause stress that leads to insomnia. Suffering from chronic insomnia all my life, I know how horrible this can be.
I used to dream about my jobs. Working at McDonald, I dreamed I was drowning in a sea of salads. Working as a nanny, I’d wake up in the middle of the night, heat pounding, thinking I forgot where I put the baby. Jobs have a way of working themselves into your sleep.