An Open Letter to My Insomnia
August 14th 2011 10:12
Dear Chronic Guy Who Sleeps with Me Every Night,
Hey there Insomnia old pal - woah - I would have knocked before walking in on you in the daytime, stark nude you are.
Oh, were you sleeping just now? In your armchair? During the day? Is that how it works? You retire to bed as soon as I wake up, snoozing along like its nobodies' business, all fancy free, lazy like a lumbering log.
Here’s the deal. When I finally do get to the land of Nod, I am awaken by nightmares that I am sure only exist thanks to your insistent presence. Sometimes the nightmares are simple like me trying to fit a giant cheesecake into my mouth. No. Wait. That was Saturday night. Okay never mind. My point being, why are you so infused with red cordial around the 2am mark?
Despite the pill I take to avoid you, there I am, tossing and turning more than a garden salad on steroids, throwing my blankets at the wall, playing scrabble with myself and losing (I'm that good), planning the following day around what food I will be eating (CHEESECAKE).
Anyone who has ever shared a bed with me knows that you will be crashing our party as the third member.
Well I would like to officially banish you from the pity party. You cannot braid my hair at this sleepover. Because eventually, bitches gotta sleep.
Regards,
Snoozey
Hey there Insomnia old pal - woah - I would have knocked before walking in on you in the daytime, stark nude you are.
Oh, were you sleeping just now? In your armchair? During the day? Is that how it works? You retire to bed as soon as I wake up, snoozing along like its nobodies' business, all fancy free, lazy like a lumbering log.
Here’s the deal. When I finally do get to the land of Nod, I am awaken by nightmares that I am sure only exist thanks to your insistent presence. Sometimes the nightmares are simple like me trying to fit a giant cheesecake into my mouth. No. Wait. That was Saturday night. Okay never mind. My point being, why are you so infused with red cordial around the 2am mark?
Despite the pill I take to avoid you, there I am, tossing and turning more than a garden salad on steroids, throwing my blankets at the wall, playing scrabble with myself and losing (I'm that good), planning the following day around what food I will be eating (CHEESECAKE).
Anyone who has ever shared a bed with me knows that you will be crashing our party as the third member.
Well I would like to officially banish you from the pity party. You cannot braid my hair at this sleepover. Because eventually, bitches gotta sleep.
Regards,
Snoozey
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