Too Stupid To Sleep

I have no problem with forgetting to eat, but the past few days I've definitely been having trouble making myself go to sleep. Last night I was up until 3am hitting refresh on bloglines and now I'm heading down the same path (I even just played a game of tetris, which I haven't done since I finally finished my qualifying exam proposal). I'm not sure why I'm reluctant to go to bed, maybe something to do with my anxiety about not knowing what I need to be doing in the morning - I wasn't sure if today was a real holiday or not and tomorrow I thought I was going to a departmental retreat, but my advisor emailed to say I didn't actually need to go and asking if I wanted to but I haven't replied because I don't know if I want to or not, or what happens if I don't show up (I think I have a ticket for the dinner, which I don't want to go to because I don't know anybody and I'm completely not up to talking to new, real scientists, and I guess I don't have to go now, but there was an email asking whether people were going or not and I don't know if I should tell someone I'm not going or what). I also haven't asked about taking Friday off, which I need to. I really hate asking for time off so I always leave it to the last possible moment, which only makes it harder because now I'm not giving anyone any notice.
All these problems would not be an issue if I could just communicate...

The other thing I keep thinking about is a dream I had last night. In the dream I had a baby. He was incredibly cute and well behaved; the only problem was I kept panicking that he was dead because he was quiet and slept so much. Actually, the bigger problem was trying to figure out how to avoid conflict with my mum and all her side of the family over not wanting a Catholic baptism for him (this would actually be a problem, IRL).
I was enjoying having a baby in the dream and he reminded me of my similarly angelic pseudo-step-niece, who I got to play with while I was home. I spent most of my time at the pseudo-family gatherings playing with her, actually, and avoiding the grown ups. This was a fun avoidance tactic, but it meant I got a few comments about me being clucky.
There've been a few conversations at lab lately about having kids and balancing that with work too, since my advisor's wife (also a scientist) just had a baby and one of the techs is wanting to go to grad school and have kids in the forseeable future. I'm probably being oversensitive, but it felt like my advisor was looking at me when talking about grad school being the most career-friendly time to have kids.
My mum adores her pseudo-step-granddaughter and made a few comments about grandkids of her own, but her efforts to avoid pressuring me ("of course, maybe you're not interested in that sort of thing" "if you want to concentrate on your career that's fine too") just made me feel worse because I would love to have kids someday, but honestly I can't even imagine how I'd ever manage to even have someone with whom I'd have the option of having kids* so I can't admit that. If I were to admit that I'd like to have a family, then I'd have to face people wondering (even more so) why I don't date. Instead, I have to project this image of being so focussed on studying that I'm just not interested in all that relationship stuff.

* There's a quote from High Fidelity about only a certain kind of person knowing at the age of 26 that they'd never find anyone to marry/fall in love with (I just found it: Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of their lives at the age of 26, and we were of that disposition. - High Fidelity), which made me feel like even more of a freak when I read it because I've felt like that since age 16 or so. I can imagine meeting someone and falling in love etc, but it all relies on some magical transformation to bridge the gap between me as I am now and the imaginary me who can actually have a conversation.