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writer :: feminist :: mother

My addiction

This was an assignment I wrote for a writing workshop I took last year.

I reread it tonight and it made me laugh...

because nothing has changed!

I hope you like it! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I can feel the pull.

It really is only about 22 steps from where I am right now.

And it will be warm.

And soft.

And I can just drift away from all of this.

 

This.

This never-ending LIST of things that I need to do.

The list I have been avoiding for so long.

The piles and baskets of bright coloured clothing that are scattered along my hall are looking more and more like permanent fixtures and they keep growing in height and depth.

I don’t know where all of these papers keep coming from. It is like a tree gets cut down once a day in here and all of it’s byproducts end up on my desk and scattered across the kitchen counters. I swear I just filed it all and emptied the pretty blue box yesterday.

 

If I could just close my eyes for a little bit, I can do it all later.

Everyone else in this house is sleeping right now. Why can’t I?

 

BECAUSE!

 

That is what you did yesterday and the list that was supposed to be finished then is now added to the list that is for today.

YOU JUST CAN’T.

PIck up this, put away that, wipe this, wash that, fold this, call so and so, book this appointment, get nephew a birthday present, plan this party, get a new windshield, schedule our next date night, etc...

 

Sleep is a powerful drug.

There are no problems when one is sleeping. The lists do not exist when I am curled up in my bed. I don’t have to deal with anything when I am sleeping. The kids will sleep with me and we are all happy and there is no yelling, no threatening to take away this or that toy, just peace and snuggles and...

 

Void.

 

But I can’t. If I go there now, then there will be three days of to-do lists TO ACTUALLY DO,

and I will soon be buried in those bright piles of clothes and papers.

 

It’s a game actually. One that my mind likes to play with me.

"How far can we push her? Let's make her eyes go buggy, droop those eyelids a bit more, convince her that it can all be done later.

Come on Natasha, only 15 minutes, then you will feel all refreshed and can get back to work."

 

But it never works like that. Once sleep catches me, she doesn’t let me go. She makes my limbs heavy, my head heaviest of all and won’t let me wake up after a mere 15 minutes. That does not appease her.

 

So I have to say no. I have to fight her off. If I keep moving, she won’t catch me. If I sit down, if I stop, she knows she has won.

 

This may sound silly, but no matter how much I want to be 22 steps from where I am right now, snuggled in my bed with the 4.5-year-old miniature version of myself, I can’t go there.

 

I have to GET THINGS DONE.

 

My name is Natasha Chiam.

I am addicted to sleep.

It has been 3 days since my last nap.

sleep

 

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Post #2 for today and the #summerblogchallenge.

Don't you feel lucky?