Insomnia in a Small Space Update

(Not Really; Just More of the Same)

Back in April I wrote here about how I try to deal with my chronic insomnia in the Airstream.

Thank you, insomnia (not)—here is a seven-month update to being awake in a tiny space when everyone else is asleep.

Banjo Hates Me

Back then, Banjo used to sleep at the foot of the bed, and I had to maneuver around her to even just get out of the bedroom.

These days her bed of preference is her spot on the sofa, and boy is she pissed when I tiptoe in with my phone flashlight on, looking for something to do in the trailer that’s the polar opposite of torturing myself with attempts at sleep.

Here my use of the flash in the Deep Dark Night™ is masking Banjo’s sharp frustration with my bumbling, awake self. Seconds after I took this, she slunk down from the couch and crept into her bed at the foot of ours. Now she and Tracy are both demonstrating proper sleep in a way that makes me feel sharp frustratation.

Soup’s Hard to Come By

Previously I had a stash of rice noodle soup from Costco (the before time) that I could nuke without disrupting the drying dishes on top of the stove.

Turns out those plastic bowls the favored rice noodle soup comes in A) are hard to come by online and B) take up too much space in our one food cabinet. So I’ve resorted to this brand of soup for late-night comfort, and I ain’t happy about it.

I have to add salt, garlic and chili sauce, and green onions (when I have them). By that time it’s so strong that I’m wide awake just smelling it.

But, whatever, it gives me something to do that’s relatively quiet, doesn’t require a lot of light, and is not torturing myself with attempts at sleep.

Element of Danger

As if a spicy mouth weren’t enough to turn any right-minded neurologist against my personal insomnia remedy, I throw in a little live flame too, plus the drapey sleeve of my fake-silk robe.

Watch that propane flame very carefully, Shelly. Hold your robe sleeve far away.

Why do I walk around the trailer in a fake-silk robe in the middle of the night making spicy rice noodle soup? I don’t know. If you have a better plan, please say.

Desperate Measures

Today, for example, I’ve done everything else right.

I slept well last night (five or six hours, maybe?). This morning I used my prescribed brain-wave stimulation device thingy for the full hour.

I worked out for 45 minutes to my Nike Fitness App. (Don’t be fooled by that picture; jumping jacks are the easiest workout move on that thing.)

And then I hit the pool to relax my muscles and act all retired-ish, like I have not a care in the world.

I took all the right steps, but I’m just as wiggly and restless and ready to cook spicy soup while wearing a highly flammable robe as if I’d been in bed all danged day long.

In some campgrounds I’m temped to sneak out to the tent and lie on my outside sofa and listen to the night. We’re not allowed a tent here at Bonita Springs (lotsa rules). I could go walking up and down the streets and look at the wacky Christmas lights.

(I took this one from my bike one night. Kinda cool? Or just blurry?)

I’ll just put away my soup dishes and join the sleepers a couple of feet from me. I have a big day of being retired tomorrow.