I haven't mentioned my long-term insomnia yet in this blog, though if you're reading and know me in person you're probably already aware of it. I've been getting 4-5 hours sleep a night recently, which is good for me. That is being upset now I'm rising 45 minutes earlier to work on my morning pages and affirmations as part of my new routine. So far, I'm finding it exhausting. I spent most of yesterday like a zombie: work dragged by in a grumpy haze, then I was singing in concert at night, which went really well but was an effort as I felt so sleepy. Supper and drinks was laid on for us afterwards, and it was after midnight before I got home. It was a great evening, but I was so tired I found myself almost nodding off in company. How rude!
Today I was due to meet a fellow writer to talk projects (cancelled due to a last minute family commitment), followed by a script editing session, some marketing and production work for the play, time was set aside to write a short story submission, I planned a leisurely lunch and coffee after a walk round town, and have tickets for the theatre tonight to round the day off. It just hasn't happened. When I finally got to bed in the early hours I crashed out and slept till till after 2pm today. My morning pages were late-afternoon pages, but at least they're done. I feel a bit better having caught up on sleep, but my plans for the day are right out the window and — despite the fact I've not actually let anyone down or caused any commotions — I feel guilty about not getting things done.
My creative, productive day hasn't happened. My Artist's Date isn't happening. I've resigned myself to an at-home day instead, taking some time out. Perhaps it's not a bad thing to rest and recuperate then pick things up tomorrow.