My doctor told me the most important thing in my recover (and in life in general) is to protect your sleep: to guard it as if your life depends on it.
Because it does.
Not getting a good night's sleep can affect every aspect of the following day, whether you notice it right away or not.
It begins with shoving a pop tart in my kids' mouths on the way out the door, instead of taking the 10 minutes out of the morning it would take to fix them some eggs, bacon, and toast.
I refuse to apologize for taking that time to enjoy a quick cup of scalding coffee while throwing on some mascara and dragging a tube of lip gloss across my chapped lips.
After all, that's why there are locks on bathroom doors, right?
I have been wired all afternoon and evening, and even now, after settling down (relatively), the idea of sleep is incredibly elusive. It might be the lack of sleep, but I swear the sandman, that little fucker, is peeking through my curtains, laughing at me, and doing his little lucifer dance on my annuals.
I can't deny that I am enjoying the quiet, but beyond that quiet is a day full of living that I'm going to have to get through.
Protect your sleep, guard it with your life. What happens if I don't even have the energy to do this?
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