Insomniac Robot

I’m back on nest duty and back to the mommy grind.

I realized after a few hours home yesterday I felt like a robot.

Like I had never been gone.

I came in yesterday afternoon after some work business and some Al business that took me away for 4 days.  Stanley was good but during the change he was pacing and shifting his weight from one foot to another and I knew he was trying to say something.

I tried to be patient.  

Just spit it out Stanley.

 

He told me he is moving to a new apartment next weekend with his girlfriend.  So, there you go, they are moving in.  I don’t care.  Go forth and be happy.  I’m hoping that he will be really happy in his little love nest and will agree to continue birdnesting.

Although this is a pain in my still big ass.

I am having major sleep issues. 

 

Insomnia sucks.

I think it is a combination of:

• age related hormonal issues (fuckery)
• sleeping in different beds constantly.  Last week I slept in 4 different beds.
• concern about $$.
• concern about Al and his transition 

 This morning I feel like an insomniac robot.

I’m trying to break these issues down and problem solve:1. Age related hormonal issues.  Well.  Fuckery.  There is nothing I can do about it.  I’m almost 49 years old and insomnia and anxiety increase in women during this time.  I am going to my vaginacologist soon and will talk to him about it.  But it is a bitch.  And I am having trouble sleeping after I take Tylenol PM and sometimes after I pop a Xanax in desperation.  That ain’t good.2.  I sleep in different beds constantly.  I sleep in my bed in the nest 3 or 4 nights a week and the other nights I sleep at the crash pad.  Usually the second night in a row somewhere I sleep better.  Again the kids are great and I am glad we are still birdnesting but it isn’t helping me sleep any.  When it is over I will have one place to keep my stuff and lie my head down at night.  This has an end point.3. Concern about money.  I heard a few weeks ago on the Today Show that it takes about 10 years to recover financially from divorce.  Okay.  I have 8.5 years to go.  I can handle that because I know it has an end point.  I’m stressed about stretching my dollars but it will get better.  I got myself into this mess, after all.  But I will say that the next time someone hears me say I am going to put in more $$ to help Stanley put in less, I need a bitch slap.  Just slap the hell out of me. 

Because then I can’t afford gas and he buys some expensive shit.  

4. Concern about Al and his transition.  I can’t help it, I’m worried.  I’m afraid he won’t ask for rides.  He is very self reliant and a big strong man and I’m nervous he won’t say “Why, yes, I do need a ride” when people ask him if they can help.  I have a billion more things to say on this subject and I will get my thoughts together and say it tomorrow but I am anxious for him. 

Now I am going to take my tired robot big ass and make some dollars.