So…you’ve been dropping by a lot. You’ve noticed I now keep your favorite beer in the fridge and there’s a clean towel left out for you in the bathroom. I know you don’t like the airbed, but prefer to steal all my covers, whilst simultaneously changing the temperature in the apartment by twenty degrees in either direction. I know that your conversation will keep us both up most of the night. But please remember, whispering is still talking.
I know, I know, I do have pills I can take that are supposed to make me sleep. But I’ve been told that along with your overnight bag you come complete with a duffel of anxiety, which is why my doctor has prescribed me pills that are only slightly weaker than a horse tranquilizer. Despite my adamant swallow of the tiny white sphere, there are still those persistent three hours of conversation (your diatribe, I should say) before my lids finally fall. You know the hours,…the ones when you ask me why people would eat a meal consisting of both chicken and waffles? Where you quote Jack Donaghy from 30 Rock repeatedly (“Damn my krav maga training and lightning reflexes” is only funny the first 50 times you say it, Insomnia). And yes, I too have seen the trailer for “The Lincoln Lawyer” five times and still don’t know what the movie is about either. Yes, I agree that Brian Williams is a stud. No, I can’t figure out why Ryan Philippe and Jude law keep knocking up random women and why they’re not using protection, and if they are, why they’re so bad at it. Or why Tom Brady is wearing headbands to keep back his flowing locks. Or if the NFL is going to be blacked-out, or how Wile E. Coyote never caught up with the Roadrunner, or what the heck is going on over in Wisconsin. As my new roommate (rent is due on the first of every month, just a FYI), I promise you my answers will be much more eloquent and well-thought-out at 8am than at 4am. Let’s give it a try, shall we?
I have a few more requests, Insomnia. If we are going to make peace, I need better television to be on from 2-6am. It would be nice if you would do the dishes once in a while., maybe take out the recycling. And please stop asking me why I gave up alcohol and swearing for Lent. I’m beginning to ask myself the same thing, trust me.
So let’s compromise. If you let me sleep at least four hours a night, I promise to allow you add Netflix movies to my queue. Yes, even ones with Jessica Alba. If you continue to cause me 90 minutes of light napping, I’m going to sign up for a sleep lab and then you’ll be sorry. Not idle threats, Insomnia. Don’t test me. So let’s listen to only one chapter of our audio book tonight, not seven. Let’s not see the sun rise for just one day. I promise, if we don’t see it, it will still happen.
Yours in sleep,