It all starts innocently enough with 10 spoons of energy. I can’t sleep, so I decide to be productive. My brain is firing on all cylinders. I am a nocturnal genius! I dive into work, hammering out emails, drafting reports, and coming up with ideas that will surely change the world. Or at least make my boss think I am a night owl visionary. My energy spoons, however, have other plans.
Fast forward to 4 a.m., and I am knee-deep in a project I didn’t even know I had. My desk is a disaster zone of sticky notes, half-empty cups of liquids, and an array of snacks that would put a vending machine to shame. I am on fire, burning through energy spoons like they are going out of style. Little do I know, the crash is coming.
Around 6 a.m., my body decides it is finally time to call it quits. I crawl into bed, convinced I will catch a quick nap before the day begins. But of course, the sun is rising, birds are chirping, and my neighbours have decided it is the perfect time to start drilling walls. Lovely. My remaining energy spoons are dwindling fast.
Somehow, I manage to fall asleep just as the world wakes up. My eyelids slam shut. Hours pass in a blissful, unconscious haze. The rest of the world is busy being productive, while I am drooling on my pillow. My spoon supply is in critical condition. When I finally wake up, it is afternoon. The sun is high, my phone is buzzing with missed calls and messages, and I am in a groggy daze. I stumble to my desk, trying to remember what day it is and whether I have missed anything important.
Panic sets in. I try to catch up on everything I missed while sleeping the day away. My brain is foggy, and my attention span is shorter than a TikTok video. Tasks take twice as long, and I am in a constant state of “what was I doing again?” It is a mad scramble to appear functional. My spoons are being spent on sheer survival.
As evening approaches, the fog lifts, and I feel alert again. And so, the cycle continues. Night falls, and I am back to my midnight shenanigans, tackling tasks with the energy of a caffeinated squirrel. I manage my energy in bursts, often burning out and recharging at odd hours. It is chaotic, but it is my reality.
So here I am, writing this at some ungodly hour, sharing my nocturnal escapades with you. If you are out there, fellow night owl and insomniac, know you are not alone.
