As I lay in bed, a throbbing headache interrupts my thoughts. Is it possible to have a headache while asleep, or did it manifest as I woke? Strangely, I don’t feel the urge to use the restroom, which leaves me wondering if I’m dehydrated. Perhaps I should schedule a routine check-up, but how often do I need one? The fatigue is overwhelming, making me wish for a gentle nudge or reminder from the universe.
My mind drifts to the array of tasks I juggle each day. I can hear my child’s voice echoing with sporadic ideas, jumping from school projects to fictional characters, leaving me perplexed. Should I get up and engage with the world? They say to embrace wakefulness, but the weariness clings to me.
Then there’s the upcoming bat mitzvah. Should I extend invitations to everyone? I worry they might be upset if they aren’t included. However, if they do come, the guest list is already bursting, and the costs are starting to spiral out of control. It hits me again—I need a stable job, one that offers consistent paychecks and benefits like vacation time.
Yet, I cherish my current roles, even if they feel like multiple jobs rolled into one. A clearer job description would help. If only I could declare office hours: “The Mom is In.” Haha, that would be amusing.
As I wait for my daughter to wake—she’s been creeping in at night for the past two days—I wonder why three is often cited as a magical number. A quick Google search won’t yield any solace at this hour. The truth is, I might be awake for no reason other than anticipation. I feel like a vigilant guardian, always prepared for her next visit to my room.
Meanwhile, pop culture flashes through my mind. I’m shocked by the things I’ve seen online, like certain celebrity moments I can’t unsee. My thoughts shift to parenting doubts. Have I unintentionally nurtured a budding narcissist in my child? Twelve years of encouragement—could that be the problem? Am I a narcissist too? The questions flood in, leaving me restless.
I need to mail the mortgage check, but that can wait. Seven hours of sleep is crucial for tomorrow’s survival, yet I’m stuck in this cycle of overthinking. I try to summon positive thoughts, envisioning my happy place, riding the waves of calm.
Can meditation help me drift off? I ponder if my social media presence is contributing to my insecurities. It’s exhausting. I’m left feeling both exhilarated and drained, potentially due to dehydration and fatigue. Perhaps the world of social connections has turned into a double-edged sword.
Finally, as my daughter stirs, I brace for her arrival. I know this phase won’t last forever, and I remind myself to embrace these moments, even if they disrupt my sleep.
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