circadian rhythm, interrupted

There are two camps of thought when it comes to the time change: Those who seem to struggle for weeks and those who are lying. My 16-year-old daughter literally stomped her foot last night because she couldn’t find her shorts in the laundry. I felt that in my core. I am she. She is me. Make it stop. 

Because, shocker, I am forever the former in that grouping of sensitive people. It takes me days to adjust. The first night of the time change, I went to bed past 12 and woke up at 6:30 am to an unfortunately-timed event of dog-heaving that turned into a cleanup, and I haven’t recovered since. I don’t believe the latter type of person actually exists, and if they do, they’re just hiding their crippling ، addiction because there’s no way the coffee intake is cutting it. {Also, they’re mindless robots with no soul if coffee is unnecessary.} Celcius and other energy drinks are a gateway drug for those who enjoy gambling with heart palpitations, and I’m currently right there. I am trying, and I should get points for that.

Let’s establish that I’m an early-to-bed kinda gal. By 7ish on a lucky night, I have my pajamas on. By 9, I’m in bed, heating pad on {much to my dermatologist’s dismay} and flossed, glossed, and watching my final round of Modern Family before heading to la-la land. If plans are canceled, I rejoice. I am a simple soul. I get up early, and I never nap. I do not ask for much, but I need close to nine hours every night, and this is my self-care. I work full time, and that’s how I survive. 

In the same way that I am forever a homebody, I feel like I was belittled for this difference and put a priority on it all my life. People either get me or they don’t. I want to think we all grew up, and it turns out I was just an “old soul” because I believe a lot of people just don’t want to admit they’re the same way. It is as if enjoying a good night’s rest like a responsible adult exhibits some odd weakness or something. What a weird way to think.

Jamin broke the gender roles {what-in-the-modern-day-supportive-spouse-anti-pariarchy-nonsense is this?} and helped with nighttime feeding shifts when the kiddos were born because I am and will always be a wreck without sleep. Despite what we were endlessly taught, we realized early on that no one gives me a special martyr crown with precious rubies for long-time suffering in doing all the things, and also, no one wins if I’m miserable. That’s true love.

Once, after our second and very colicky baby was born, I was coasting on 1.5 solid hours and sent a scathing email about a design client TO THAT CLIENT. In my defense, I was a wreck, and he was also a friend who was kind of {definitely} being a pill about a logo, who laughed it off. I am a more pleasant person who can actually function with sleep. Also, Jamin knows I’m more of a liability without it. I’ve never felt so vindicated when a scientific study was released that women need more sleep than men so that they can produce hormones and, basically, exist. I’m whatever that is, times ten. 

A few times in the past, we’ve had dinner guests who wouldn’t leave by 12ish. That’s A.M. If I’m struggling past 9 and I’m a good host, it’s probably time for you to leave, and I kind of feel like maybe you should read the room since we’re definitely in our forties, and this isn’t college anymore. Multiple times, dinner guests stayed well past 1 {that would also be a.m.}, and they would make remarks like, “We know, Ashley needs her sleep” ::eye roll:: when leaving. Like I was some killjoy at the end of a long night that I’d prepped, cooked, and cleaned for. You’re welcome, and also, we’re not friends anymore. 

Life is too short to people-please passive aggressive bullies, and if you make fun of me for needing an essential human right, you are a bully. Basically, the government is a bad dinner guest and a passive-aggressive bully. Yay, metaphors. 

Which brings me to my point since I know you thought we’d never get there: I love daylight savings time. I’m much more productive with light. I can lengthen my work hours and get things accomplished. I’m motivated and can enjoy evenings outside with family. But I have to adjust first. Now, I’m having trouble falling and staying asleep. I don’t even have babies or puppies anymore, but I am certainly acting like both. 

So, I ask this every year: Why are we still doing this? 

Is the government trying to control us? Because it’s working. My circadian rhythm is screaming for mercy. I’m basically one more bad night away from believing birds are robots, the earth is flat, and airplanes are releasing chemtrails. I would never make it in a situation where they control my sleep. There’s a reason I’m not a secret agent. The moment they try to take my sleep away, I give in and tell on all the people. Yes, it was Sally. Sally did it. Kill her.

Farmers no longer need this time thing. We’re not riding into town on horse-drawn carriages to look at the fancy city lights with MEMAW. We have electricity and indoor plumbing. Stop the vicious, antiquated cycle. Wasn’t there an urban legend about it going to Congress? I think it stalled out somewhere on the next step. I would vote for whoever went to bat in office and got rid of this ، thing, regardless of their other policies. Yes, I will sell my soul for sleep; haven’t I established this with the imminent death of Sally? There are some candidates out there missing out on a significant platform opportunity. Why does this happen every year?! I know we’ll all eventually recover, but I can’t seem to accomplish anything right now, let alone remember where I left my phone. It’s 2024, people. Let’s do better.

Call me Winona because I am Circadian rhythm, interrupted. Yes I did just write this. Blame the sleep deprivation. 

Good luck, everyone. May the mattress’s softness be ever in your favor.