humor, sleep

The UFO And My Ankles

This morning I was too afraid to get out of bed. Why? Because I am sure, at 4 am; the usual time I get up, there was a beam of light shining – and humming –  into my bedroom windows. Cue *Twilight Zone* music here…

Twice.

images-3Uh… okay… Hence, I was too afraid to hop up. Insane. Too scared to hop out of bed?! Yes! I’d rather take on an intruder in my home than some UFO. Yeah… getting beamed up towards the sky with a goat doesn’t sound that fun to me. Anyway, it was outside my window; not yours, and I lay in bed clinging to my sheets for dear life!

(I exclamation point, to exasperate the seriousness, of my point.)

And should it actually have been beings from another world to come take me away; I might as well let my significant other be the hero and let him get sucked up into that cargo ship. That would be the gentleman-ly thing to do. There’s not much meat on me anyway for them to carve up; so really, I’m doing a good thing here.

Seriously, stop watching the History Channel.

Wait, sidebar, why exactly are shows about aliens on the history channel? When people “see’ them and tell someone, no one believe the coocoo bird anyway. So, a historic event? Overkill. Maybe. Not really sure…. there WAS something outside my window, NOT, resembling a street lamp.

As I contemplate, it’s similar to when a police officer’s radar gun goes off when trying images-4to catch speed racers on a highway, aliens using these ray beams probably work the same way. No. Or disintegrate you. Likely.

Either way, as long as I’m the smaller object I’m hiding under the covers… not getting pulled up by a saucer with my ankles over my head…

…I’m soooo not getting abducted.

“Have a good a time up there, hun! Send a postcard!”

What a great plan.

Which got me to thinking… I need to stop watching the UFO shows on television.

Exercise, humor, sleep

Elephants & Mobsters

Photo Aug 14, 5 38 21 AMI’m an insomniac-lifer. Tick-Tock. My brain doesn’t shut down. Ever. Especially when I am drained from –most likely– self inflicted dramas that have unfolded or –also likely– self inflicted professional deadlines breathing down my neck or I start to have weird ass dreams. Which often happen …and seem quite real. And like movies. And not the Hallmark kind… Like this one time I dreamt a Korean drug lord kingpin was mistaken that I knew who he and his gang were looking for. I didn’t. But he cut my fingers off anyway. Yeah, I fought back, because in my dream state, I’m a total bad ass and can take out mobsters.

Right.

The thing is when I feel that way, the not sleeping well thing,  it’s because I am 100% out of balance! No shit, Sherlock. Writing, sleep, filming, sleep, auditioning, sleep, family, sleep, friends, sleep. Juggling all these things all the time and something will surely fall into the deficit.  For me, it can easily be the SLEEP part.

I love my sleep! I wish I could do it all day. And I’ve been smoking on that pipe dream Photo Aug 14, 7 15 43 AMsince I was 6 years old. I don’t really smoke anything by the way. The reality is, I have so many “important things” to do who has time for such a tall tale known as sleep. Pipe dreams, that’s who. If I’m sleeping, what am I accomplishing that I need to be awake for to accomplish..

Rita Does Bedtime Yoga

The reality is, we need our sleep. Without our personal minimum requirement we just can’t function. If I work fifteen-22 hour days, I’m exhausted. Like an elephant dragging itself through Central Park. Eventually, you’re just not going to get any where and the bottom will fall out. Or your elephant belly just won’t budge across that Bermuda grass. And you gotta watch out for that grass of Bermuda, it’ll get ya.

Rituals. Regimes. Daily practices. Sound like malarky? Yeah, I thought so too. But seriously, once I started an evening routine even my slumber became more productive.

Approximately half an hour before bedtime to be exact. I know, who has more minutes in the day to add yet another “thing to do” in their day. Especially at the end of it. Make the time. The drug lord in my dream made the time to find little ol’ me, you can easily make the time for little ol’ you. Some TLC, if you will. And still keep your fingers.

I like to wash and change my sheets every couple days. Sound excessive. It’s not.

Photo Aug 04, 12 04 12 PM

 

 

Think about it… the idea of dead skin coming off the body and sweating at night or even if a bedbug decides to attack, I’d like to think I lessen the quantifying belief that my bed is a breeding zone of death. Or rather even a random place for a developing rash to appear for which no one can explain to me how it freakin got there.

MY NIGHTTIME RITUAL

  • 30 min before: wash face, shower, brush/floss, etc. (ok, fine you got me on this one)
  • 20 min before: bedtime yoga (ugh, a workout?) not exactly. Check it out!
  • 10 min before: plop on my eye mask/earplugs, plug in my ph/place upside down (no light for me thank you)
  • lay back take a few deep breaths, continue my tension release practices from yoga (ok, hippie)
  • drift off to sleep =) nite! nite!

Give my nighttime yoga routine a try, see if it helps! It didn’t stop my crazy dreams but at least now I’m sleeping much more soundly and through the night than I did prior to adding this evening discipline.

And you know what?

No gangsters. No elephants. And certainly, no bermuda grass.