So as I laid awake last night, thinking about life, money, taxes, death, if those protesters for Barnum and Baileys really do give a damn about the elephants…I also wondered, “why am I laying here awake? Why can my body not realize it is finally time to rest? How come during those 3pm hours at work when I want to pass out with my highlighter and a post-it glued to my ass cannot I not recall that feeling right at this moment?”
A good friend of mine recently paid full price for a non-healthcare-covered sleep medication so she could finally spend some time with her pillow instead of with her eyes wide open. Another friend of mine had to finally get her boyfriend on sleep medication after he had missed the third happy hour party at McFaddens to get in a good five hour nap, since he was not sleeping at night.
I don’t know many things in life, but I do know one thing… if you are missing DRINKING, so you can sleep, then you need to go see some kind of medical person who carries thermometers immediately.
Why are none of us sleeping? Should our bodies not be programmed to sleep? Did not the Cavemen sleep? Were there restless cavemen in the days of Yore, or the time of Yesteryear? After lifting boulders all day, do you think Caveman #1 would lay awake at night thinking, “What if I can’t pay my dinosaur fees? What if I cannot afford to buy that new dinosaur? Will my Boulder credit go bad? “
Another friend of mine (yes, I know, I make up these “friend” people, really they are just random drunks I find on the street to answer my survey questions) actually takes time to get out of bed and take notes in a journal, which helps him fall back asleep afterwards.
Writing in a journal is the last thing I would do as mine would be more ill-consuming then the friggin Diary of Anne Frank…mainly consisting of scribbling about my Ex Boyfriend’s third nipple and how I am going to get out of my dental bill through magician trickery.
Is there anyone out there actually sleeping? Who is even getting a full eight hours? I hear when you have kids the first year you are lucky if you get four hours straight. Four hours?! Jesus Christ I got four hours under the bar stool last Saturday…what will I do then? I will have to Zoloft my baby up.
My baby’s first two words will be, “Xanax” and “Don’t wake Mommy when she is fucking sleeping”.
