I lay awake at night, unable to sleep, and I am comfortable in time and space, but I do not sleep.

Think of good pleasant things, I tell myself, so I can drift off to sleep, and while myself agrees with this, myself also thinks, “But self, I’m already living the dream. I’m here, next to the one I love, with Ash the dog sleeping at my feet, cone on his head, and Honey the dog sleeping close by.”

This is not entirely true since last night Honey decided, earlier, to go outside and sleep where the air is cooler and a breeze makes the hot summer night bearable. But usually she’s close by also. I miss her when she’s away, but who am I to dissuade her?

And I can think of nothing more pleasant than where I am right at the moment.

This does not help me sleep.

Up until this week I had a history of good sleep, at least for the past year or so. Before that, bad sleep was a constant, on and off, and I struggled with sleep, or lack thereof.

And now it’s back, the endless nights when sleep doesn’t come until I’m supposed to be up. I get up early, and I’m still sleepy, and I go back to bed eventually because I’m neither awake nor asleep, but in that halfway land that is neither productive nor restful.

I don’t want to fight the sleeplessness, and, truth be told, I’m not entirely unhappy to be laying in my bed with my charming husband sound asleep next to me. He’s quiet when he sleeps, so it’s not as if his snoring is keeping me up. The dogs, too, sleep quietly, especially Ash, who may fart noxiously from time to time, but other than trying to kill me with smell, he’s motionless.

Still, I would like to sleep when it’s time for me to sleep. Even the Advil PM isn’t working this week. The Ambien which I keep in reserve hasn’t been tried yet, because I truly do want to be awake the next day, and not stumbling through it groggily.

I don’t mind not sleeping. What I do mind is the way my brain refuses to function fully during the day, the way I feel as if I could just take a nap at the most inopportune time, sometimes, the way I have to take a nap at the most inopportune time. Fortunately my employer naps when I do, so she doesn’t yell at me too much.

I just want a good night’s sleep like I’m used to having. I once knew someone who said he never slept. He boasted about it as if it were a point of pride for him, that he was somehow better than us mere mortals for his inability to sleep at night. I watched him, and he appeared to sleep at night. He’d sleep until noon, if left undisturbed. He had quite a temper, so I didn’t point out that, indeed, he appeared to be sleeping quite well. Anyway, even if he appeared to be sleeping, that didn’t mean it was the right kind of sleep, did it? There are different levels, and without the right ones, we might as well not sleep at all.

I suppose he felt it reflected well on his character, that he could withstand so much sleep deprivation and still be the epitome of who he was, which was not saying much, but I suppose it was all he had. So he boasted about it, and if he started sleeping I suppose he would have had to change his perception of himself.

Me, I just like sleep. It’s not only fun and entertaining (today’s early morning dream had me going to college and taking three classes and I became lost, and later I bought vegetables), but it’s also something my body really gets into. There is nothing better, says my body, than a good night’s sleep, and I don’t care if the fact of it is unimpressive.

Tonight I’ll try again. Check back for updates.