December 10, 2008

Natural Sleep, THE MYTH EXPOSED

SO, picking up from yesterday, here is how the whole NATURAL SLEEP thing went…

9:00 PM: I fall deeply, beautifully, happily asleep in just a couple of minutes. Extremely deep. Extremely satisfying and awesome. UNPRECEDENTED!

9:20 : The alarm clock goes off. I wake to find drool. A lot of it. So much that little ladybugs could come and put up parasols and take a pleasant boat trip across my drooly pillow. I crack a disbelieving eye at the alarm clock, and notice that a weird light NEXT to the alarm light is on. The weird light reads, “NAP.” All caps. I take one angry slap-hand and whang the alarm clock very hard on top. The noise stops.

9:30: I fall back asleep. MIRACULOUS! Double UNPRECEDENTED!

9:40: The alarm clock goes off. Yes. Again. I sit bolt upright and GLARE. That word, “NAP,” is still lit, and this troubles me. It occurs to me that a short nap lasts about ….twenty minutes. And that the clock may be prepping to BEEP every 20 minutes, all night long, and then all morning, and then forever.

9:41 – 9:42: I turn on the lamp and poke and twist randomly on the hypercomplicated button-laden clock that SCOTT has inflicted upon us. This clock can bend time and solve for Pi and understands what E=MC2 means. I could safely go into SPACE inside this thing. I poke so many random controllers that I send my neighbor’s horrible little dog back in time where he smashes the wrong butterfly and forever alters the course of human evolution (before last night, people had ANTLERS and could pop their eyes out on stalks to see around corners, but you probably do not remember). The NAP button remains inexorably lit.

9:43: Reach down behind the bedside table, feel around for the plug, and PULL IT.

9:43 and 2 seconds: The room goes dark. I have unplugged the LAMP.

9:43 and 5 seconds: Say A Very Bad Word Indeed.

9:43-9:45: Get up, turn on the overhead light. Find the plug. Plug in lamp. Lamp comes on, turn off overhead light. Get back in bed. Pick up alarm clock and turn it over and over around and around in my hands like a raccoon with an inexplicable food and no washing pan. After several minutes of this, see that the NAP light has MIRACULOUSLY gone away. Set down the clock. Turn out the lamp lie back down.

9:45 to 10:50: Look at ceiling. Fume. Toss. Flail.

10:51: Fall into a light accidental sleep when I am not paying attention.

11:01: Boggart and a piece of plastic string decide to mount a production of “BOGGART AND THE PIECE OF PLASTIC STRING: AN INTERPRETIVE KILLING DANCE." They stage it on my butt and legs and feet. Ow. I wake up poinked, danced on, and enraged.

11:02: Piece of Plastic String is hurled from the bed. Boggart is hurled from the bed. I say TWO excrutiatingly bad words and then take another moment to describe to Boggart in great detail exactly what became of the last cat with theatrical leanings who mistook my hind end for The Great White Way.

11:03 – 12 midnight: Lie there glaring at the ceiling and waiting for BOGGART AND PIECE OF PLASTIC STRING PART 2, THE REVENGE OF SON OF STRING, to begin, but Boggart maintains radio silence. Apparently this one will go straight to video, if it is released at all. I decide that absence does INDEED make my heart grow fonder, and I could come to quite passionately LOVE tthe Boggart, if only if only he would take up permanent residence in Japan.

Midnightish: A gray sleeplike stillness begins.

1:30: BOGGART AND PIECE OF PLASTIC STRING PART 2, THE REVENGE OF SON OF STRING, is launched. Onto my butt.

1:31: Piece of Plastic String is ripped from the bosom of Boggart and shut up in the underpants drawer in my bedside table.

1:32 – 1:40 Boaggrt stages protests, yowls, batters at the drawer, cries for Piece of Plastic String, paces worriedly, marches all over me, cries, cries, yowls, bats at drawer, flops and wails and bats and flops. Boggart was only ever happy that time he had PIECE OF PLASTIC STRING. WIthout PIECE OF PLASTIC STRING, the world's pleasures are as ash in his mouth! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!

1:41: Boggart falls peacefull to sleep on my feet

From then on, all night: I drift in and out of fitful dozes, alternately drooling and calling upon the dark gods to appear and eat him. And the clock.

Status: Failure.
Future plans include: Melatonin, wine, bad TV, Belladonna and, on truly desperate nights, a whang on the head with an enormous mallet. But…I am not sure who will get the whang, me or the clock or Boggart.

Posted by joshilyn at December 10, 2008 5:19 PM
Comments

ROFL! Oh Joss, I haven't laughed that hard in quite a while - and this is in a public place no less :P Thanks for that! I totally understand the misadventures in sleep, and wish you much better luck in the future!

Posted by: Heather at December 10, 2008 5:48 PM

Correct me if I'm wrong, but does that not count as TWO of Boggart's nine lives used up over a lowly piece of plastic string? He's a very lucky cat. In your situation, I might have killed him eight times, REVIVED him eight times, and then killed him for GOOD.

I hope that with Scott back you can sleep tonight.

Posted by: Aimee at December 10, 2008 6:20 PM

My dog and cat sleep on their own level of the house. It's for their own good. Really.

Posted by: JulieB at December 10, 2008 7:31 PM

Oh my, I laughed so hard I dare not tell you. Thank you so much for the continuing adventures of Boggert. Sorry you had to be involved, but I'm glad you could talk about it...

Posted by: jen at December 10, 2008 8:32 PM

OH my. You had me at “BOGGART AND THE PIECE OF PLASTIC STRING: AN INTERPRETIVE KILLING DANCE."

Posted by: RuthWells at December 10, 2008 9:40 PM
Posted by: jenn at December 10, 2008 9:41 PM

Oops, was trying to say SNORT!!!

Posted by: jenn at December 10, 2008 9:42 PM

I selflessly took your sleeplessness last night, falling into blissful slumber right around 6 in the morning, with a 7:10 alarm, so I hope you enjoyed sleeping.

And if we both didn't sleep, then I'm willing to traipse all the way across the country with my own little bit of furry demon and see if, when introduced to yours, they both magically explode into kitty nothingness, allowing us both one half of a good night's sleep.

Seriously, your doctor prescribed belladonna? I can't decide if that's beyond cool or just strange. I'm opting for cool, since you are inherently cool.

Posted by: Fran at December 10, 2008 10:29 PM

Oh my word. That is your funniest post in a long time (which is saying something, as they're mostly all very very very funny)!

You had me at "...but you probably do not remember."

Hysterical, Joss. Thank you!

Posted by: Erin at December 10, 2008 11:24 PM

I've really been pestering my husband about getting a cat. After reading your Boggart stories I'm getting hesitant.

Posted by: nik at December 11, 2008 1:59 AM

Oh My God!!! I'm unable to sleep tonight too but am laughing my 'great white way' a** off. Thanks!

Posted by: pam at December 11, 2008 4:57 AM

I enjoyed the "raccoon with an inexplicable food and no washing pan" part. I've done that with electronic things a few times!

Posted by: Brigitte at December 11, 2008 5:15 AM

Poor Joss. I managed to sleep for two nights straight but then last night, zilch. Back to the up every hour and hazy sleep pattern.

I hate Thursdays. >.<

But on the bright side, you do make me laugh out loud which I hear is good for me.

Posted by: Jess at December 11, 2008 10:39 AM

Not sure if this is the same forma as what you have been taking but, also for the curious, belladonna is also a homeopathic remedy for migraine headaches.

Posted by: Trace at December 11, 2008 2:20 PM

I will not sleep tonight laughing from this post! I thought whiny sleepless dogs were bad - but cats clawing sleepless cheeks is cruelty beyond measure!

Posted by: Chris at December 11, 2008 4:21 PM

I have moved to the UK. We bought a UK clock. It is preprogrammed to receive BBC Radio 1 through BBC Radio 7, plus about 10 more non-BBC radio stations. I thought this would be cool, as then I could look at the screen & know what I was listening too. (stations here are not so devoted to formats, and often appear multiple places on the dial, so after 18 months, my ability to locate a desired station when desired was, nil.)

Anyway, the multi-button pushing and holding process for turning on the radio and setting the alarm and choosing a station for the current moment was so complex that I managed to enter the code for 'delete all pre-sets' before I even knew it existed. Thereby negating my entire 40 pount (80 dollar!) clock radio purchase.

I finally found an acceptable station and never bothered attempting to reset any. I managed to set the alarm also. Discovered then that when the radio is on, you have to hit a combo of buttons to see the time instead of the radio setting. It is not a permanent adjustment, but must be done every time the radio is turned on. Or, the clock radio alarm.

So, I have a very expensive clock radio that only recieves one station and doesn't tell me the time unless I am not listening to the radio.

The wonders of modern, digital design. they suck.

Posted by: mom, again at December 11, 2008 4:28 PM

Pox on natural sleep - get thyself some AMBIEN!

Posted by: Nelson's Mama at December 11, 2008 4:42 PM

Okay, I have officially peed my pants. Just a little. My solutions for sleeplessness: 1. Banish the pets from the bedroom. After a week or so, they'll stop scratching at the door all night. 2. Microwaved rice bag (fabric bag full of, yes, rice) draped over my side. It's warm, it's heavy, it's soothing. Add a little lavender if you like. 3. Never, ever think about anything real once your feet leave the floor. No work, no kids, no finances, just happy little fantasies, rating of your choice.
Now I'm off to perform an interpretive reading of your post...

Posted by: Sandi at December 11, 2008 9:33 PM

Oh, Joshilyn. Sorry to laugh at your misfortune, but that was hilarious. Of course, the fact that our cats do the exact same thing, usually on nights when we most need sleep, adds a bit to the humor.

Posted by: Caryn Caldwell at December 12, 2008 12:44 PM

Antlers! Eyes on stalks!

I was wondering why the top of my head felt bare this morning.

You are so funny and wonderful.

Posted by: Cornelia Read at December 12, 2008 1:01 PM

Alarm clocks with snooze buttons are evil.

Posted by: ibobunot at December 19, 2008 10:57 PM