God knows I am trying to conquer the elusive beast that is a good night’s sleep. 

It’s an ongoing battle and a lot keeps me up, sending me beelining it to my Keurig most mornings for a cup of joe.

First off, I’ve been a night owl for as long as I can remember—even as a child. That’s how I became such a fan of late-night TV, watching The Tonight Show transition from Johnny Carson to Jay Leno and now, Jimmy Fallon. 

Plus, it’s easier to think and get things done when everyone else is asleep, especially writing, a pretty quiet activity, whether personal or work-related, unless you’re transcribing interviews. Another nighttime joy is reading uninterrupted. Many moons ago, this worked out perfectly each time a new Harry Potter book was released. I’d wait in line to buy the newest one for my daughter, an avid reader, and although I was eager to curl up with it too, I wasn’t about to buy two copies! But no worries—I’d activate my parental authority for lights out around midnight and wait until she dozed off. Then I’d tip-toe in, mark her page and indulge until the wee hours before sneaking the book back. Pretty slick, if I do say so myself!

Being up late also means picking what YOU watch on TV — with no debate. While middle-of-the-night choices were once slim, DVRs, on demand and all the streaming services available now mean you can watch anything anytime and usually without commercials! Or you can scroll through countless videos or posts on your cell without judgement. 

Aside from those perks, nighttime for me is when the ‘worrying bug’ bites. Heck, I even organized my entire pantry one time trying to occupy my mind. I also have restless leg syndrome (which I used to think was fake), pre-menopausal symptoms, a little anxiety, a way too vivid dream cycle and three children—two still at home—constantly on my mind.

I’ve tried over-the-counter sleep aids like melatonin and Tylenol PM (which one time made me hallucinate that my backyard trees swaying in the wind were angry monsters flailing their arms at me), deep breathing, monotonous phone games, white noise apps, sleepy time tea and sleeping with the TV on—though that also kept my husband up—but to no avail.

The only thing left to do, I suppose, is accept that I am no longer a spring-chicken insomniac, but a middle-aged one. So, I’ll go with the flow and get stronger coffee. Any other suggestions? If so, call me anytime, day or night, since I’ll most likely be awake. Sigh.

For now, however, a toast to all the night owls and their endless pursuit of sleep: May we find peace in our midnight struggles and stronger coffee in the morning!