Beauty rest

I think I hit my Olympics wall. I'm glad they're almost over, that my favorite events (swimming and gymnastics) are over. I can't watch any more. I'm too tired and everything has started sounding the same. The commentators irritate me to no end and I am thrilled at the idea of never having to hear their annoying voices again. But at least now I can get some sleep.

Last night there was a website that I really wanted to look at with Torsten, and its server was down so I couldn't. And seriously, I wanted to kill someone. I was so frustrated. The internet has spoiled me--I am all about the instant gratification. I was hugely irked that I could not have the discussion I wanted to have with Torsten because the thing I wanted to discuss was unavailable to me. I was so impatient that I kept refreshing the page, every five minutes, all night because I was just so convinced that if I wanted it bad enough, it would just fucking fix itself already. Needless to say, it didn't.

Torsten is really good at convincing people of things. He's honest, he's sincere, and he's trustworthy. That means he can sell anything. Except himself. He sucks at talking himself up, he sucks at touting his own virtues. In some cases, that's fine. Good for him for being modest and not feeling the need to talk about himself and how great he is all the time. But in other cases, he needs to stand up for himself and put other people in their place, and he's not always able to do that. I am able to do that. This is because I'm not as nice of a person as he is. Normally I appreciate his niceness. But yesterday he needed to sell himself, and he wouldn't, and it was driving me up the wall.

The point is, everything is putting me on edge. I'm not stressed; we are totally on the ball with the wedding planning and all the little problems that have been cropping up have been relatively easily resolved, at least so far. I'm not pregnant, and I'm not in a particularly hormonal part of my cycle. No, the only explanation for this illogical edginess is sleep deprivation. And the worst part is that it's self-inflicted. I haven't been busy working til late at night; I haven't been out with friends; I haven't been getting extra stuff done. I've been watching gymnastics or whatever other sport that NBC stubbornly refuses to air until eleven p.m. And my sleep is suffering.

These past couple of weeks have proven to me, quite conclusively, that eight hours of sleep is a bare minimum for me, and that nine is really preferable. Six hours is enough to make me homicidal. But at least I know the remedy. Feel like stabbing someone with a fork? Go to bed. Find your lip curling involuntarily whenever someone else talks? Go to bed. And so on.

So last night, I went to bed, nice and early. It wasn't enough to make up for my huge sleep deficit, but it was a start, and today I'm already feeling fresher. Just enough to be shocked at how foul my mood was last night just because of a lack of sleep. Perhaps I should reconsider this whole desire for a baby thing. Just kidding. I hope.

Does sleep deprivation affect you like this, or am I the only one?