Sleep has been a big issue around the Lennox house as of late. Well, for one of the three of us at least. Last night, I drank a generous glass of merlot and went to bed at 9:30. {ahhh, 9 hours here we come…} Then I woke up at 1:45. {$#!%!}

How does the girl who could once slumber through a train rolling into her bedroom now jolt wide awake at the tiniest of stirrings and bumps in the night? Once I’ve startled past the point of no return, an annoying little ticker tape starts rolling in my head, reminding me of all the things I didn’t accomplish the previous day and what’s looming ahead of me when I get up. Then the anxiety starts. Nine hours turns to four, if I’m lucky.

I’m working more hours than ever, so the lack of good REM is starting to wear on me. We’ve lost several employees over the last year or so to resignations and tough lay-offs, and with each terminated position I add more to my juggling act. My current job description looks a little something like this: receptionist, customer service liaison, quality control supervisor, designer, wedding coordinator, supply and inventory manager, occasional delivery driver, marketing director, housekeeper, and staff morale committee. I’m not complaining, just exhausted. My situation isn’t unique. Many of us are doing the jobs of four to five people in this tough economy, and as we take on more and more responsibility we just sigh, slump our shoulders, and say to ourselves, “At least I still have a job.”

How’s a girl supposed to fit it all in to 24 hours? Work your tail feathers off to build a fulfilling and successful career while carving out time for nourishing your marriage, raising children, maintaining a Pinterest-worthy home, whipping up meals like Rachel Ray, nurturing relationships with family and friends, keeping up your appearance (easier some days than others), and getting the 8-10 hours of beauty sleep that all the fashion mags say we need to stay fresh as a daisy?!

This morning I had to be at the shop at 7:00am, less than 12 hours from the time I locked up the night before. After finally falling back to sleep around 4:00 — and then waking up every 30 minutes thereafter to make sure I didn’t oversleep — I rolled out of bed at 6:30 and made myself as presentable as possible in 10 minutes. Which meant brushing my teeth, slathering concealer over the luggage under my eyes, dabbing on some creamy blush, swiping my lashes with my favorite mascara, and throwing a hat on my mess of hair that was still sopping wet when I fell asleep the first time. In the first 3 hours of my day, I spilled scalding tea everywhere — my iPhone was in the path of destruction, but is unharmed — broke a flower basket all over the floor, and seriously flubbed on a delivery. I spent the rest of the afternoon in a haze staring at my to-do list without really accomplishing anything.

The Lesson: Clearly sleep is crucial for this girl, so in an effort to get a restful 8 to 10, I’m isolating myself from my boys and spending the night on the pull-out couch in the guest room. We had a talk about it: “It’s not you, it’s me. I don’t love you two any less. I’ll be back soon, I just need some ‘me’ time. G’night.”

It’s like having a slumber party for one. Which is just kind of sad.

Sweet dreams!