I wake up in the middle of the night, startled by sounds from a dream I can’t remember.

I turn to my husband. He’s sound asleep.

I go to my son’s room. He’s awake. Reading. Did you hear that? I ask. But he hasn’t heard anything because it was all in my dream.

Go to sleep, I tell him as I walk back to my bedroom.

Go to sleep, I tell myself.

I climb into bed and try to fall asleep again. Instead, I toss and turn. The deep sleep I crave eludes me.

I shake my husband awake. Did you hear that? I ask. No, he mumbles and tries to fall asleep again.

In the morning, we stumble out of bed. Sleep deprived. We get ready for the day. In the dark.

My day at school goes well. Coffee helps. A virtual math professional learning session keeps me on my toes. (It was that good.) When I return to my class, I feel surprisingly refreshed.

When I get home I shower off the day and go downstairs to decompress before dinner. And that’s when the full force of the previous night’s sleep interruption hits me.

I skip dinner and go to bed.

Can’t keep doing this, I tell myself as I take calming breaths.

Can’t keep doing this.

Cross posted to The Two Writing Teachers Tuesday Slice of Life Story Challenge

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