I’ve never had trouble sleeping, I can sleep anywhere at any time, but recently, it’s been eluding me. I find myself getting out of bed after a couple of hours of not sleeping and coming back downstairs and listening to the radio, reading, sharing mini tortillas with my pooch.
I realised, I like it. Not sleeping. I’m like a baby who is tired but won’t go off because too much interesting stuff is going on.
I have a book, podcast, a dog sleeping next to me in his basket, the only light coming from my kindle. It’s after midnight, so not too late, and it’s peaceful.