Where's a good rut when you need it?

The trip was going pretty well up until this point. It’s now 2am and I can’t sleep. I slept poorly last night so I probably COULD sleep, but every time I close my eyes, my lovely brain won’t shut up. Have I become such a creature of habit that I can’t sleep without my… my what? My own bed, husband, apartment, state… time zone? I have my little habits and bedtime rituals and apparently, the comforts of a nice cushy Hilton just mess that all up. No… just let me stick in my nice familiar rut please.

Yesterday went pretty well actually:

• Got a decent night’s sleep and woke up halfway rested at 6am.
• Everything at SFO went smoothly and the flight was on schedule.
• JFK wasn’t too bad and neither was the traffic into NYC.
• I had a good time at my friend’s house and didn’t feel like too much of a fifth wheel around her family.
• Her one and four-year old daughters seemed to warm to me a bit.
• I had a nice talk with her husband last night.

Today was mostly ok too:

• I didn’t get much sleep, but I didn’t feel wrecked this morning.
• I had a good time playing with my friends’ little girls in our pajamas.
• My friend and I snuck in some decent conversations about parents (although I worried that was talking about myself too much).
• Not too much traffic in NJ and I even got an hour to myself at the hotel (which is very nice and has wireless Internet.)
• Running errands with dad wasn’t too bad.
  
• We had a good, light, talk at dinner.

Then, on the way to the airport to pick her up, I mentioned the clothing thing. Really casually, I just said that mom seemed really focused on what we were all wearing tomorrow. He said that she told him she "can’t talk to me about clothes anymore.” That kinda stung. It makes it sound like I’m the difficult one. He also said “You don’t normally hang out with all the senior executives at his company.” True… but I still felt like he was saying I couldn’t dress myself. Things felt more stilted once mom showed up. Back at the hotel, mom and I tried on our outfits for each other. Honestly, the skirt looks really stupid on me and now I’m worried.

Last night, when I couldn’t fall right asleep, I wasn’t too hard on myself. Even though I didn’t get a full night’s sleep the previous night, I just don’t sleep well in strange places. I know this. I just lay there patiently, drifting from one thing to another. Tonight, that wasn’t happening. I just started thinking about well… I don’t know, EVERYTHING. (And thinking about how silly and unattractive I was going to feel all day tomorrow didn’t help either. Now I’m going to look tired as well as fat and pasty and weird.)

Nights like this, I miss my buddies, Ambien and Seroquel.

Tomorrow could be be rough. There’s the tour of the school my dad built (well, project managed) in the morning, the afternoon of staring at myself in the mirror at the salon, and then, the evening of awkward conversation and feeling like a bloated Barbie.

Maybe, I’ll just overload on DBT skills. Be mindful of myself. Take care of myself. Be mindful of the brevity of the day and it’s importance to my parents. Take care of myself but remember it’s not about ME tomorrow. It's a big transition for my dad and I want to support him.

And then Wednesday (which is now, technically tomorrow) I’ll get to hang out with my friend in Queens. And the next day, I’ll get to go home and squeeze back into my nice little rut. My nice little comforting rut that keeps my moods from flying around and banging into all the nice people.

Oh hell… and now one of my glands on my neck feels sore and swollen. If I get sick as soon as I get back… well there goes the rut...