Sleep and orange juice.
Neither habit is dangerous and both are actually relatively good for me, but if I were to indulge them to the full extent of their intensity, I would get absolutely nothing done because of the former and I would quickly run out of money due to the latter. Especially since nothing but not-from-concentrate will do.
As it is, I'm sleeping probably 8-10 hours in most 24-hour periods (though it could be more, so much more!), and drinking two to three large glasses of orange juice (again, this is with some powerful self-limiting).
Part of my need for sleep seems driven by the fact that the whole time I'm sleeping, I'm having dreams of vivid, colorful intensity--even when I'm dozing or just drifting off, times I wouldn't normally be dreaming. They're not particularly stranger than they were before, but I remember them vividly and they're packed with so much detail. A sampling from last night:
-I dreamed that Matt and I were moving into a chicken coop, but we could only have the first level because upstairs was a recycling plant. We were sleeping on bunk beds and we also had a roommate, who was probably 19 or 20 but was "older" than us--so we must have been kids/ younger teenagers? My dad had apparently found us the place and he told us "I don't want to hear any complaints, I called around all day to find a place that came with a free French horn and mute." It was painted purple but they had obviously boarded up the original entrance and made a new entrance because the paint and the ramp (you know, that the chickens walk up!) didn't quite match. I was concerned about this but my dad told me "The only reason the FDA cares about that is for reasons having to do with Salmonella, and if you aren't really keeping chickens in there, it doesn't matter." I remember that I had the top bunk, and just like when I was at camp, as soon as I had expended the effort to get up there, I thought of all kinds of things (a drink, a sweatshirt, a visit to the bathroom) I should have taken care of before I got up there.
-I dreamed that my sister and I were going to the mall for some event that involved dancing and a lot of samples of spaghetti (mmm, spaghetti!). My dad was sure that we wouldn't make it back out by when we were supposed to, so he took his shoes off and crawled through the heating ducts to try to find us, even though we'd already arranged for a ride with our mom. We ended up leaving the mall (I think it was Westdale Mall in Cedar Rapids) through one of the empty stores that they'd converted into hotel rooms for the Backstreet Boys. We ran into our dad on the way out, who was very pleased with himself, but stopping to talk to him caused us to miss the ride with our mom
-I dreamed I was having an oboe lesson with my old oboe professor, who sadly committed suicide last month. It was in his front yard, and at first we just played duets and had a normal lesson, but then I couldn't hold back anymore and I said, "I really wish you hadn't done what you did." He sort of sighed and said, "I know." I said "If you had to give a reason why you did it, what would it be?" He looked at me for a long time, and he looked sort of old and sad but at the same time sort of resigned and peaceful, and said "I guess sometimes I just wasn't sure who I wanted to be anymore." There was so much more I wanted to ask him--and tell him; he never knew that I was pregnant, as far as I know--but then I woke up.
I guess that will have to do for now.
Neither habit is dangerous and both are actually relatively good for me, but if I were to indulge them to the full extent of their intensity, I would get absolutely nothing done because of the former and I would quickly run out of money due to the latter. Especially since nothing but not-from-concentrate will do.
As it is, I'm sleeping probably 8-10 hours in most 24-hour periods (though it could be more, so much more!), and drinking two to three large glasses of orange juice (again, this is with some powerful self-limiting).
Part of my need for sleep seems driven by the fact that the whole time I'm sleeping, I'm having dreams of vivid, colorful intensity--even when I'm dozing or just drifting off, times I wouldn't normally be dreaming. They're not particularly stranger than they were before, but I remember them vividly and they're packed with so much detail. A sampling from last night:
-I dreamed that Matt and I were moving into a chicken coop, but we could only have the first level because upstairs was a recycling plant. We were sleeping on bunk beds and we also had a roommate, who was probably 19 or 20 but was "older" than us--so we must have been kids/ younger teenagers? My dad had apparently found us the place and he told us "I don't want to hear any complaints, I called around all day to find a place that came with a free French horn and mute." It was painted purple but they had obviously boarded up the original entrance and made a new entrance because the paint and the ramp (you know, that the chickens walk up!) didn't quite match. I was concerned about this but my dad told me "The only reason the FDA cares about that is for reasons having to do with Salmonella, and if you aren't really keeping chickens in there, it doesn't matter." I remember that I had the top bunk, and just like when I was at camp, as soon as I had expended the effort to get up there, I thought of all kinds of things (a drink, a sweatshirt, a visit to the bathroom) I should have taken care of before I got up there.
-I dreamed that my sister and I were going to the mall for some event that involved dancing and a lot of samples of spaghetti (mmm, spaghetti!). My dad was sure that we wouldn't make it back out by when we were supposed to, so he took his shoes off and crawled through the heating ducts to try to find us, even though we'd already arranged for a ride with our mom. We ended up leaving the mall (I think it was Westdale Mall in Cedar Rapids) through one of the empty stores that they'd converted into hotel rooms for the Backstreet Boys. We ran into our dad on the way out, who was very pleased with himself, but stopping to talk to him caused us to miss the ride with our mom
-I dreamed I was having an oboe lesson with my old oboe professor, who sadly committed suicide last month. It was in his front yard, and at first we just played duets and had a normal lesson, but then I couldn't hold back anymore and I said, "I really wish you hadn't done what you did." He sort of sighed and said, "I know." I said "If you had to give a reason why you did it, what would it be?" He looked at me for a long time, and he looked sort of old and sad but at the same time sort of resigned and peaceful, and said "I guess sometimes I just wasn't sure who I wanted to be anymore." There was so much more I wanted to ask him--and tell him; he never knew that I was pregnant, as far as I know--but then I woke up.
I guess that will have to do for now.
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