http://hoschie.deviantart.com/I am plagued by sleepless nights. I lie in bed, feeling sardined by the sandpaper-y wall, countless pillows, and Nick.
The comforter, a gift from Grandma Collins, weighs about fifty pounds. I always feel that it is constricting me like a giant flowery-rectangular snake. (If snakes were flat I suppose.)
Add three kitties to that mess, purring, licking my face, occasionally biting or scratching.
Anyhow, it's a wonder I ever sleep in this bed at all.
I am not a heavy sleeper. I do not fall asleep easily or quickly. Even as a child I found it nearly impossible to nap.
So, my troubles with insomnia are growing.
I just researched the condition online and found out some of the culprits to my trouble with sleep.
1. I am a woman.
(Women are twice as likely to suffer from insomnia.)
2. I had two cups of coffee around seven p.m.
3. I smoked several cigarettes tonight. The nicotine is apparently a stimulant.
Great.
One of the reasons I can do nothing about, short from seeking a sex change.
The other two are my favorite vices. How can the Mayo clinic expect me to give those up?
My dad was being quite hilarious tonight, petting my sleeve to make his over sized black lab whine with jealous rage. Father kept saying, "Good Ariel!", very loudly. It was very demeaning.
He then began calling people "bastards" and "sons of bitches."
We ate meatloaf and browsed Ebay.
Nick and I went to Winco. I wore stripper heels and towered over him. I read him Chapter 8 of Eclipse. I am really getting the whiny Bella voice down.
Well I best be getting off to bed. Though I don't really want to relive any of my nightmares from this morning. I was sodomized by Eminem AKA The Real Slim Shady in front of some gangsta thugs and Alec.
He pretended to be really straight so the ghetto gangsters wouldn't kill him.
Next some random man and I were going on a vacation.
I said, "What are we going to do with the cats?"
He said, "Don't worry about it."
He went outside for a couple minutes with the kitties. He came back in without them.
"What did you do with them?" I inquired.
"Haha, they're having fun in the drainpipe." The man said ominously.
I jumped off my bed and ran outside, found a sewer grate in my mom's driveway and ripped off it's cover.
Bartholomew swam pitifully to me, but Charlie and Firenze were not there. I pulled Bartholomew out and reached my fingers into the slimy dark water, my hand ran into two soggy furry lumps.
I pulled out my kittens and began performing CPR on them, though it was obvious that they were dead.
I'm sure if the dream had continued it would have featured me returning to the house and slitting that man's throat with a kitchen knife.
On that happy note, goodnight loyal readers and friends. :]
