Confessions of a New Insomniac

I have been blessed with one great talent in life-- sleeping. Sure, I have other minor talents (I am great at vacuuming, although I should practice a little more, and I give killer shoulder rubs), but my main claim to fame is snoozing.

I get it from my dad. This inherited super-power means that no matter what is going on in my life, I'm always able to escape for 8 hours of dozy bliss. That is, until now.

I've lost my gift and I can't figure out why. For the last 3 weeks, I struggle a little to fall asleep, but eventually do. The problem is that I wake up at 2 or 3 in the morning and either can't get back to sleep at all, or I do that weird dream for 20 minutes, wake-up and think "what the heck was that all about?", then try to go back to sleep for an hour-thing, then start the cycle all over.

Layne tells me it is always that way for him. (You see, he is NOT a talented sleeper.) He, however, functions well on 5 hours of sleep a night. I, on the other hand, NEED 8. (This is a major reason why I am done having babies. I turn into a walking-migraine, psycho-hose-beast when I go more than a day or two with inadequate sleep.)

Which means, like the Hulk, I feel myself turning into said beast. Not good. Especially for Christmas Eve.

It starts by me saying some things out loud that probably shouldn't have even been in my head. Next, I start picking on Layne and the kids for things like making footprints in my freshly vacuumed carpet. (Why can't you just levitate to your bedrooms?) Pretty soon, I start foaming at the mouth.

I can't figure out what brought this on. I'm no more stressed out than usual. The only lifestyle change I can come up with is that I quit drinking caffeine about the same time I lost my power. Could that be???