Getting shit done at 4AM

I’ve always had insomnia and extreme anxiety. We know that. I’ve had a sleep study done. I live in a perpetual state of “my sister will come in and start hitting me for leaving the TV on QVC again at any moment.” They were like you just have “spontaneous arousal” plus periodic limb movement disorder. So basically after every REM cycle, I come back up to near wake — which means pretty much ANYTHING is gonna pop me to fully awake. So I don’t get those ever deepening REM cycles. And yeah, I’m crazy.

So when perimenopause causes insomnia and anxiety — what happens when you already have those? WHAT HAPPENS?

You know what happens? You just start freaking the fuck out and you never sleep. I’m on staycation supposed to be relaxing but I can’t sleep. This is me doing laundry at 4am. I woke up to pee and was like fuck it, I’m not going to fall asleep for a few hours. I should do laundry.

That’s my staycation. I don’t have to freak out about my sleep schedule and husband is gone so I’m not disturbing anyone. Great time for this. I haven’t put up my laundry in at least over a month. Well over. But there’s always something I’d rather do. But hey, 4am, let’s do it.

Look! All my Duluth camisoles are clean!

Yes, I do have one in every color they’ve put out since I discovered them. I don’t know why three of those colors are shades of purple, but whatever. These are camisoles with built in bras. NOT a shelf bra. I don’t even know what the fuck a shelf bra is for. Like that only holds the shirt to your boobs. There’s no support. There’s no nipple coverage. It just holds the shirt in place. So you still gotta wear a bra.

These have a sewn in bra. Like pads — not removable pads either, they’re fully sewn in there. Do you know what that MEANS? It means I can wear the coolest-yet-still-coverage shirt with not bra. I can answer the door. I can go to the mailbox. I can have people in my house — in my camisole. No nipples showing. Tattoo on full display. Adjustable straps. I’m just comfortable. I LIVE IN THESE. Yall washing clothes when you run out of underwear, these are my washing cue.

Duluth. I fucking love Duluth. The clothes are just good quality shit made to fit a normal sized person who actually moves around. Nothing is stylish — it’s all functional core pieces. And that shit’s gonna LAST. Everything has a one year guarantee. Bring it back for any reason and they’ll replace or refund. Who else does that with clothes? Who else it gonna take back you 9 month old tshirt? I tell you who, Duluth.

I even got my husband on this brand. I bought him some of the bucknaked underwear and their classic 5-pocket pants. He liked the pants so much he got me to get them in another color. MY HUSBAND. So I went and got him some jeans on Wednesday. I had to return some adorable shorts I bought online that were too small for my thighs (sad times). So I was like, I’ll return these and get husband some good jeans. Cool. So I didn’t even bother looking, I just asked the guy whats the closest jeans you have to these pants. And that’s what I bought. Home free right? No. It’s Duluth.

So I’m walking out and I see this little dress thing on clearance. It had caught my eye the other day but was still too expensive, even on clearance. But now clearance was an additional 20% off in store. So I glance at the again. Built in bra — nice nice. Oh wait, holy FUCK ME, are those shorts?

So I grab some to try on. I never would wear something like this — but my friend, this dress is everything. All you need is panties. Very supportive bra built in. Shorts with pockets, check. Extra pockets, check. Open back shows my tattoo off, check.

Well, fuck. I’m wearing this to the Trash Pandas next week. I think it’s made for hiking and shit but you could do anything in this. It’s basically a leotard/bodysuit that looks like a casual dress. And I thought it would be fun because I don’t own anything even close to this. I’m gonna pick husband up from the airport in it!

Oh, and while I’m doing laundry over here… Here’s my top favorite Tshirts at the moment.

We got a pop culture reference, a cat (with a Vneck – love a Vneck), and three shirts referencing the word fuck. One with a muppet. I love Chef.

So yeah… “Cursing Cats and Curiosities” — NAILED THE NAME.

Oh and I called my psychiatrist and was like “yeah no, I’m no longer a functioning crazy person.” I’m requiring a nap EVERY DAMN DAY. Panic attacks every day. Perimenopause is like MY DEATH SPIRAL.

So he gave me MORE valium. I swear to god, my only super power is my inability to sleep. Once I told a pharmacist friend all the shit I take and she was like “I’d be passed out.” No, that’s the level of anxiety we are medically suppressing here. One day we’re all gonna get gassed and kidnapped and I’m gonna wake up and save us all cause aint nobody taking my ass down. Kidnapper farts and I’m awake. Oh you thought I was asleep? ME? HA! I heard everything you said. Now which reality is this — is this the one where I still have one class to take to finish my degree before everyone finds out I’m a sham (because they let me fake graduate with everyone, as long as I finish that one class)? Or the one where we are perpetually packing up to go home from the Florida trip because my sister brought an insane amount of shit that needs to be jammed in the car and she’s drunk off her ass pissing herself in the closet so I have to do it all? WHERE IS MY CAT, MOTHERFUCKER?

I’m gonna categorize this under “Health > Ageing – Not Gracefully.” I have a valium to go take.

DID MY HUSBAND FORGET TO CALL ME AGAIN?