Spring is supposed to be all rebirth, He is Risen, Aries-fueled manic renewal.

I’m so defiant. For my entire life, I’ve suffered from the opposite. For every April and May in memory, from Vernal Equinox to Summer Solstice, I suffer. I call it the Spring Sleeping Sickness for lack of accurate Web MD diagnosis, but from the moment my eyes open in the morning I’m desperate to sleep again.

For the whole. Season.

I’ve tried to blame Daylight Savings, latent allergies that only manifest themselves in a complete sucking of life force, or some sort of reverse SADs, but I think there is no answer. It just is. Though it does make me muse in between naps, when they say “On the third day, he rose again,” I think, “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

And I pull my sleep mask down again.

• Tags
• sleep
• spring
• yes sleep mask