Throughout most of our relationship I’ve gone to bed after Abby. She has her time in the morning, and I have mine at night. It’s important time apart to do the things we don’t do together, like staring at our phones. Mostly I play my RPG and read things on the internet.
I once heard a sleep expert explain that sleep is not like hunger; it isn’t a thing you can put off then compensate for by sleeping extra. It’s more like breathing. You can’t hold your breath for longer than normal and take an extra few breaths to compensate, you just die.
Staying up later than Abby to fart around the internet and play an obscure cyberpunk roleplaying game appears to be something I can no longer fit into my daily life. Every hour playing this game is now an hour I’m not sleeping, and sleep runs a premium.
I suppose they call this sort of thing a sacrifice, part of becoming a parent and priotizing something that isn’t yourself. Kind of sad that “myself” was previously defined by playing obscure cyberpunk roleplaying games on the internet.
A woman on the internet mourned the most significant cost of her motherhood as a loss of autonomy. It’s a common complaint. But it makes me wonder what autonomy is, in America. Autonomy to me was, apparently, playing obscure cyberpunk roleplaying games on the internet at night.
This is not something I feel my life was particularly brightened by. I wasn’t praying or writing a novel or working out, I was relaxing a bit. I suspect she was doing the same, and that most people are using their autonomy to such an end.
While I don’t think there’s anything wrong with leisure time, I do believe that waking up early and taking care of my daughter is a better use of my time than almost anything else. Being forced into it shouldn’t diminish that importance, and the improvement is brings to my life as a human being.
That’s why I’m writing my blog now, during the day.