I woke up at 3AM again.
This time, I'm keeping a journal of my wakings and potential causes. See if there's a pattern. Confirm or deny what I already suspect.
And what I suspect is - my brain is its own worst enemy.
When I woke this morning, a weird dream turned into a real logistics battle in my head and then my thoughts wouldn't shut the fuck up. So I got up and worked on some fanfic because trying to go to sleep with my brain playing games with itself [mental noise level: Sousa Marching Band plus Rowdiest Stadium] is an exercise in heart-breaking futility.
Only now, when it's past time I got up and got on with the day, am I tired enough to try and catch up. But it's time for breakfast, organising the kids, and generally going about the day.
I need food, coffee, and possibly a superhero to unfuck my habitat. I can get two out of three of those [assuming my loved ones have left me leftovers] with minimal effort. I guess that isn't so bad.
Maybe I can get the kids to help me out. Do a thing, take a break. Do another thing... It could work. It could turn into an unmitigated disaster. But I do know I cope better with unfucking when there's someone to at least talk to, so... eh. Worth a shot.
Life sucks when you're low on spoons.