Sleeplessness

I got married.
I moved.
I moved again.
I had a baby.

***

People told me having a baby cures insomnia. The theory is that caring for a baby exhausts one so much that when it comes time for the head to hit the pillow one is out like a light. Unfortunately, this theory is not working for me. I'm exhausted but I don't go out. Which is why I'm awake at 12:14 a.m. (Also, the half-dozen or so luxury chocolate truffles I ate around 10:30 p.m. might have something to do with it. Don't judge, they were just so delicious and they were two weeks old so I just HAD to eat them before they started to go stale.) Not that I'm complaining. When everyone is asleep is when I have time to myself. I think I understand now why my mother never seemed to sleep when I was a child. No matter what time of night, I could always count on a light coming from the living room where she was reading or writing in a journal or applying some home-made facial concoction or just sitting and staring at the tabletop, out the window, or at the walls.

***

Not that I don't like to sleep. I did try, unsuccessfully, to read myself to sleep tonight. The book was Humboldt's Gift by Saul Bellow, which I borrowed from the library the other day. I got to page 29 before my attention wandered. My attention span has become alarmingly short. I blame maternity leave and the 22-minute episodes of "The Office." While being home with the baby, I watched all of the first five seasons, whenever I was nursing or trying to get her to sleep, and since then absolutely nothing can hold my attention longer than 22 minutes. That situation better improve fast when I get back to work. Although it would be amusing to submit legal bills where everything is for 0.4 hours worth of work because that was the maximum amount of time I could focus.

***

See, I can't even focus on this anymore. Goodbye.