i cant fucking sleep

For starters, I seem to be avoiding my bedroom.

Which is stupid. I have a lovely bedroom.

I live in a little attic apartment of an old heritage home. My bedroom is a loft. It is quite cozy with its slanted walls and the charming brick chimney (that I really wish a flatscreen was hanging from). I can hear the ponds in my backyard from my bedroom window. Here is a picture of the ponds and a little plug for my landlord's business. As you can see my backyard is beautiful!

Lately, instead of climbing up the little wooden stairs to my haven, I lay on my couch at night and toss and turn and think.

I am exhausted.

The things I think about in the middle of the night have no relation at all to my thoughts or worries during the day.

When I get up, walk across the bridge in the morning, visit the ocean and look at the beautiful Vancouver skyline I kick myself for allowing those worries to even enter my head and ruin a good night's sleep.

Because really. Life is good.

Last night I went out with my friend Jen. We went for a walk in our neighbourhood, had a beer at the Five Point (the boys from my house had the same idea too!) caught up and had a great evening. Lots of laughs. No worries. Right?

I get home, feeling tired and ready for sleep.

I plop down on the couch.

In my comfiest summer p.j.s (ha, liar, I was naked!)

I close my eyes and suddenly,

I am AWAKE.

Wide awake.

No amount of anything could have put me to sleep (read whatever you want into that comment).

Today - I am a walking zombie. Again.

I am looking forward to my little vacation ... what better way to fall asleep than outdoors after playing in the sunshine all day?

Well, actually, I can think of a couple of ways ...