Missing someone to turn out the light

I’ve been suffering lately from a lack of sleep, not brought on by fear or illness or even anxiety, but by an addiction: reading junk. I was up past 3am the other night to finish off the 1000 pages of Ken Follett’s World Without End, which was the pick of my book club. And when I finally closed the back cover, I breathed no sigh of contentment, but was appalled at myself for wasting hours of sleep and a chance at having a good temper for this medieval bodice ripper with descriptions of the plague and building techniques of the 1300’s thrown in so it can pass as historical fiction. The dialogue was silly, the characters predictable, but the plot tricked you into staying involved. I can understand why it is a popular book, but I knew I was wasting time, that I needed to be asleep, that I am supposed to be sacrificing staying up late for Lent, and I should be sacrificing reading these kinds of books, but I just.  couldn’t.  put.  it.  down.

So I sat cramped in a position half sitting and standing on the edge of the bed, telling myself I was just going to skim a few pages…for 5 hours.

Instead of being so mad at myself, I should probably be thankful this is such a minor failing. I’ve had other compulsions that threatened my health. In my teens and early 20s, I wouldn’t eat a teaspoon of fat, but would binge on something like jelly beans and then go out for a two hour run. Eventually stress fractures and mono and other issues began to indicate the wear and tear on my body, but for a time I experimented with how little I could eat and still run long distance. Probably meeting my husband saved me from more than loneliness.  He gave me a reason to eat cake.


And were he home, he would’ve saved me from sleeplessness by telling me to go to bed and turn out the light. I’d grumble about his bossiness, but would comply, and would have an easier time waking up in the morning and withstanding the discombobulation of our household. Sometimes you miss the things that bother you about someone when he is gone. But sometimes those things bother you only because they reveal a tumor of selfishness in yourself that needs to be scraped away.