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As I face another sleep deprived day, I am thinking about the little crutches I rely on to get me through. First, there was coffee.

I grew up watching my Dad drink it, enjoying the rich smell that seemed to fill the room when he added hot water to that brown powder, or, in later years, when he switched on the machine.

It became part of a lifestyle I aspired to: the busy person who needed a little caffeine to cope with all the stuff they have to do. And why did I want to be busy? Maybe just because that’s what Daddy did. Maybe, as a small and Asperger’s-crippled child, I just really wanted to be that useful to everyone. My Dad is sociable, confident, and he was in charge of projects that spanned continents. Who wouldn’t want to be that capable?

Now, as my daughter has decided that every night has to be interrupted between 2 and 6 times, I am relying on coffee even more. And I have added another crutch to my arsenal. Sugar. This morning, I realised my husband and I had taken only 2 days to clear a whole tub of millionaire’s shortbread bites. Each tiny bite (and they are small enough even for my mouth, which the dentist said was small) contains 89 calories and is 46% sugar. I have also been eating rhubarb crumble with salted caramel sauce and ice cream most evenings this week. Yikes.

My husband is no stranger to this particular form of diabetes-chasing. He gets through late night work sessions with half a family size bar of Cadbury’s and reruns of boxsets. As I am ‘on call’ I go to bed early, safe in the knowledge I will have more coffee in the morning. And now – a biscuit, too!

Knowing how reliant I am on coffee makes me think I should kick this sugar thing in the head before it gets just as ingrained in my life. But if I’ve been awake so much in the night I feel I deserve a treat.

So, I’m happy to keep the coffee. It was always in my life plan. I like the ritual of pouring out the frothed milk and watching the cocoa fall like a delicious snowdrift. I like the way it says “Now you can do this!” It’s my friend, my cheerleader, my cattle-prod. It punctuates my day like roses blossoming in a garden.Yes, I will be keeping the coffee. But can I step away from the sugar again without feeling deprived?

Maybe my daughter will start sleeping again and I will laugh at how I nearly emptied the patisserie section at my local supermarket. Maybe. But I think I need a more likely solution.

What gets you through the day?

 

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My life has a structure. My days are either with my daughter or at work, that is the main division in my life, the primary organising principle. Days with my daughter are split into activities, meal, and sleep times. Days at work are split between clients and activity types. This continuous stream of order doesn’t leave much space for chaos. The word only occurs to me now because of some of my clients.

As a writer, my view of each project is only part of the picture. I glean other snippets from colleagues, but my principal understanding is of the content requirements. In my mind there is no need for disruption, confusion, or chaos, and yet…

Things keep changing. Data and requests come in that don’t make sense. Resources are reissued, without change, with no explanatory comment.

I receive each new task with a sense of bewilderment. I complete my work, and wait for the next round of confusion.

Is it because I only see part of what goes on, or are some of my clients genuinely running around like headless chickens? If so, what has caused this chaos? Is it a lack of resource, or logic?

I am perplexed by chaos because I cannot see any good reason for it.

So, this is my post today. No insight. Just confusion shared.