As far as sleeping habits go, I typically tend toward the insomnia end of the spectrum. In the past, I’ve had so much trouble falling asleep that I used to name presidents and square roots to try to throw obstacles in the way of my brain’s mad rampages of sleep-avoidance. I’ve also tried running through entire movies or books in my head scene by scene, much to the annoyance of many of my friends, who find my ability to playback Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings more of a nerdy tic than a charming social demonstration.
I’ve told you all of that to tell you this: when your brain has two different languages to ramble around in, sleeplessness becomes a whole new kind of irritating.
To explain: since I spend about half my days here in English and the other half in French, I haven’t been able to settle my thoughts into either of the two modes of expression. As a result, I now frequently say things like “I pay very expensive for this apartment,” and “But it will make them so much pleasure.” And even in the safety of my own head I have been known to think, “It’s not so bad, the cucumber.” In short, exactly at the rate that my French is not progressing, my English is also disappearing. My students asked me the other day whether we could say “She is too directive” in English, and I responded: “Yes. No. Ummmm...no?” Way to be, native English speaker.
And all of that means that when it’s time to fall asleep, my brain works itself into an even more frenzied state of frazzled when it finds it can worry in two different languages at once. I’ve taken to listening to my IPod at night to try to force my mind into English mode, but lately my party shuffle - which sometimes demonstrates a remarkable capacity to anticipate my musical moods - has started perversely throwing in each of the 15 French songs on my computer, out of what I can only assume is spite.
So now I’m trying out some different techniques to help coax myself to sleep. I’ve tried making myself a glass of warm milk, ploughing through pages of Henry James, and putting “Thundering Rainstorm” on repeat (take that, IPod, with your dirty Les Choristes tricks). I’m thinking about asking our neighbors to drive me around in their cars, which always worked well when I was a baby. And the next stop may be a medicinal glass of Bordeaux every night at 11, which is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
1 comment:
skip right to the bordeaux.
i had real trouble sleeping the year before Vienna. Maybe it was Aaron and Tim watching family guy in the room I was trying to sleep--but really i think it was just stress. I would fall asleep while trying to read for biology, but the second i climbed into bed my heart rate would escalate to where it would pound throughout my jaw bone. I forget what I eventually did, other than just settle down.
i do find the brain-numbing power of low-volume television to be induce-ive to sleep. so, my idea is set the screen saver on your computer to the one that bounces around, and concentrate (not too hard now) on watching it. if it bounces on the slower side, try pacing your thoughts to match?
and geez, if its a life-altering problem, use your french health insurance and get some sleeping pills. you aren't operating any heavy machinery over there, are you? just have brianne lock the doors.
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