Didn’t sleep last night. Went to bed at 9:45. I sleep on my right side. My right knee is swollen and hurting. I couldn’t sleep because my left knee was resting on my right knee and it made my right knee ache. So I shoved a pillow between my knees. But I couldn’t get comfortable.

So I tried a melatonin. 10 milligrams. And rested on my left side because the left side is comfort and the right side is sleep. Yes, I have designated the sides of my body to different ways of feeling and preparing to sleep.

Instead, my brain buzzed. With a praise and worship song. With the fact that my knee was still aching even though I was on left side. No my right side.

No wait. The problem is that I’m cold and Leia, my sweet pit bull, is laying on my blanket and she’s aching because she’s nine and arthritic and blew out her right knee and we’re having the surgery for her in December because crating her causes her to panic which is not good but I want her to be comfortable but I need to rewrap myself under the blankets so I can finally warm up so I nudge her a little and she grumbles but she stays.

I still can’t sleep. So I try New York Times sleep article therapy ideas. Breathe in for 4 seconds. Hold for 7 seconds. Exhale for 8 seconds. Repeat. I count too fast. Let me count with my heartbeats. The writer said that this form of breathing is better than an Ambien which is good because I don’t want to take any form of sleep pharamcuticals (I don’t count melatonin in that category) because they keep me drowsy for twice the time expected or suggested.

Breathing doesn’t work. I still can’t sleep. Let’s try cognitive shuffling. Pick a letter. L. Lactaid. Lactose. Lactate. Lacksadasical. Lack. Lacking. Look. Looks. Looking. Looked. Leary. Larry….

Two hours later. Wake up. Bladder full. Empty bladder. Back to bed. Leia’s gone. Right side. Left side. Right side. Knee still swollen even though it’s been two and a half weeks and I’m icing and elevating.

Two more hours later. Another round of full bladder syndrome. Note to self, don’t chug water an hour before bedtime. I’m in my 50’s. I should know better. Left side. Right side. Knee feels a little more slack.

4:30. An hour before my alarm is supposed to go off. Register that hour of sleeping. Close eyes. Realize that I’m on my back. That feels good. My knee doesn’t hurt. Weird. I don’t sleep on my back. My other dog, Figgis, is licking his paw. He has an infection in a toe, I think. I hope. During a grief moment, I convinced myself that he had cancer. I almost started sobbing because I convinced msyelf that my dog is going to die and I’ve only had him for three years and that’s not long enough and I’m tired of death. Tired of grieving. Tired of sadness.

5:30. Alarm. I’m still groggy from the melatonin but at least I “rested.” Go through morning rituals and chores. Feed and excurge dogs. Drink coffee. Eat breakfast. Read The New York Times while half-life-listening to husband’s choice of YouTube videos. Drink more coffee. Change into work clothes. Hygeine. Regret drinking second cup of coffee. It tastes bitter. Caffeine jangles exhausted nerves.

My knee is still swollen. Something is wrong. It shouldn’t be this swollen.

Leave early. Go to the grocery store to puchase treats for Newspaper students whose birthdays are this week or early next month (which is only tomorrow). Use the gift card that doesn’t have as much money on it as I thought and stress a little about how much everything costs. Inflation sucks.

And my knee aches so much I am back to limping. I hate my knee. Hate the damn rotten deck board that collapsed under me. So friggin’ preventable. I knew those boards were rotten.

I still have the praise and worship song in my head. Just two lines from the chorus. Driving me crazy while I drive to work. So I start mentally singing other praise and worship songs that I use to get rid of earworms.

My knee doesn’t ache when I drive. At least I have that.

Arrive at work. Carrying my messenger teacher bag. And a reusable shopping tote-bag. And three grocery bags. And my 32 ounce Yeti with hot tea. I can barely walk. Hate that I can’t walk. I want to walk. To hike. To get away because I’m exhausted and can’t focus and my brain feels like it can’t focus on anything.

Stop at school nurse’s office. Get an elevator key because my knee can’t handle stairs and my classroom is three stories up. But the elevator doesn’t work. Which I realize after two rounds of twisting keys and pressing buttons and reshifting my load to find the best way to get the elevator to work but it broke yesterday so I’m stuck going up and down stairs. On a knee that’s swollen and aching and making my balance just a little off.

First period. Three hours long because we have an anti-vaping assembly. Newspaper. 30 students. 30 projects. 30 deadlines. 30 voices talking about random things. Students on task. Students on task for another class. Students needing me to do x immediately while they form a line in front of me.

Assembly. I read a book.

I dream about sleeping. I dream about my knee not hurting. I take 2 ibuprofen.

I’m so tired, sound makes my skin feel tight, like it doesn’t fit right. Sound. Stiumli. Colors. So much coming at me and with my exhaustion, I can’t focus on one thing without five things grabbing my peripheral vision.

Four more hours until the day is done. And then hot shower. Gluten free pizza. And sleep. I am going to sleep tonight, no matter what.