The many stages of an unintentional almost-all nighter when you're a grown up

Around 2 a.m. today, I awoke.

Though I've been having bad dreams lately, which have been waking me up, I don't recall having one last night. But alas, I was awake around 2-ish.

After just a few minutes of lying there, I decided I was anxious enough for it to not make sense for me to lie there with the lights off. After years of anxious insomnia, I know -- the way a migraine sufferer knows the difference between a basic headache and a migraine -- when my anxiety will pass and I will soon fall back asleep versus when I might as well turn on the light and distract my brain for a while.

So light on it was.

I read for a little bit (from this great book I'm reading call "The Short Bus"), then got on the Internet and listened to Christmas music and played Hearts on my PC.

I did try and get some shut eye around 4, but then finally gave in around 4:30 and turned the big overhead lights on -- not just the little futon-side lamp -- and fired up the coffee pot.

I don't know what you all do when you can't sleep, but I went ahead and painted some empty mushroom boxes I have, to make some cutesy drawer organizers.

I added a coat of polish to my toenails. Emailed a friend. Sneezed a lot -- allergies. Blogged.

I wanted it to be closer to a normal getting-up(-on-a-Saturday) time so that I could clean my filthy apartment and not be that neighbor who stomps around as she picks up tissues and shoes and does the dishes while normal people are sleeping.

I was in the workout room at my apartment complex around 7, watching The Nanny and Young and Hungry and Dolphin Tale. I did 60 minutes of cardio, split in thirds: 20 minutes on the elliptical, 20 on the treadmill, 20 on the bike.

Right not it's nearing 5 p.m. It could easily be 8 or 9 according to my body's rhythm right now.

At some point -- probably around 8:30 -- I started to reminisce about this one extremely productive day I had in high school, around Christmastime. (My memory may be lacing more than one day together, since high school was a while ago, however I do know that my energy level as a 14 year old was such that it could withstand all the activities that my memory thinks I once did all in one day. I was an energetic, hyper little thing. If you can imagine.)

On this day/weekend/group of days strung together in my memory, I did homework (we were studying the Reformation in history class). I cleaned my room. I helped count candies to assemble a guessing jar for my mom's work. I think other things were done. And at the end of the day, a couple of holiday items were dug out of storage (this was one of the years we had moved, so I was extra giddy to happen upon them -- not everything was taken out of storage every year when we moved). These items were:

The family Julie Andrews Christmas CD -- from that year forward it would become my Julie Andrews Christmas CD, as it was voiced by the family that they weren't the biggest fans of Lady Andrews' musical stylings --

and

my Christmas troll dolls (I collected troll dolls and had quite a few Christmas ones specifically, let alone those representing other holidays and sporting random costumes like a pizza chef outfit).

I remember just being blissed out at the end of the day, listening to my Julie jams, arranging the trollies on the bookshelves, enjoying the fruits of my labors: a clean bedroom and a worry-free Sunday ahead of me, what with the homework done.

I had reached a point of fitting in at school and wasn't quite as homesick -- certainly I was past the debilitating stage of homesickness -- for my previous town of residence, but it was comforting to have the sounds and decorations that had been a part of previous homes around me. The town we were living in at the time was alien to young me -- more liberal politics than I was used to, classmates who were vocal in those politics, streets with a more urban feel than I was used to -- and suddenly with Julie and the trolls I felt a little more like my old self.

All that to say that today I was remembering that go get 'em day back in 1999 and I had these grand visions of doing the same thing myself, today.

I was eating "lunch" at 10 a.m. I washed clothing, towels, sheets, and floor rugs today. I even washed the shower liner. Boom.

I was doing it. One thing after the other. Energizer Bunny.

And then I hit a wall.

If I had to name the wall, it would be called "Whoa." As in "Whoa. You weren't sure you could act like a 14 year old and you were right." And then I had a shot added to my drink at Starbucks.

Then I took a break and watched TV -- considered a nap, but those are few and far between in my life so I don't usually bother. Got back up and got back to it.

I had some moments of, shall we simply call them: emotions. Feeling extra worried, depressed. I reminded myself every time that I was uber sleep deprived. I was thankful more than once for a prescription drug I'm on that made this day far less depressing and anxiety-ridden as one like this would have been in the past.

I decorated for Christmas today. I Skyped with the brother. The sheets and towels are folded (though admittedly not put away). There is one more load of laundry that could be done, but Guys, I don't think I can do it.

I'm exhausted. I'm about two steps away from ordering a pizza, but I need to go to my car to get my credit card, which is about 300 (?) steps away.

I've hit the Whoa Wall again.

OK. Here we go. To the car. Pizza time. Then bedtime.

Because Whoa.

Whoa.