Sleep is important to me. It directly affects my depth of process. With inconsistent, interrupted sleep I can function at a surface level more or less. To do design and writing and anything requiring more, each successively more complex or creative task requires a new depth of processing space I can only get through being well rested.
This is profoundly frustrating, but I am reminding myself that it is still true and, in a way, hopeful. I had enough depth to run a 3 hour session of Old School Hack on Friday (with adequate success) but I’ve been desperately aware of my inability to process deeper effort in the last week.
It’s not forever, it’s not a sign of things to come, it’s because I’ve got a 1 week old and a 17 month old in the house and I’m home helping take care of them.
My wife took them over to family’s house yesterday afternoon so I could have some time alone in the house to work on a writing project for work (which I finished before bedtime.)
Still, scrabbling against the blank face of this mental wall cornering me in the shallows–it is humbling and discouraging, and not what I’m used to.
This post is to remind me that this state of things is not forever, and some psychic claustrophobia is to be expected with another child in the mix. I’m trying to temper my frustration with gratitude: after all, it could be this way all the time.
The good news is, I’m catching up on the new incarnation of Dr. Who while child-wrangling…