Dotty Parker

need sleepy

Ah! The crickets, the peepers, the other noisy night animals who live outside my window as I try, unsucessfully, to go to sleep.

I went to the movies today with CoolCat. I demanded that we go to a movie that would not give me nightmares. Well. How do you like that? I can't sleep. No nightmares. Good job, sir. You've done well.

The question is this: should I stay awake and do something useful? Should I keep attempting to sleep?

At some point, maybe 4:30, it ceases to matter. Once 4:30 rolls around, it just seems silly to sleep. I'll be tired all day if I sleep. If I don't sleep at all, I'll wander around in a somewhat pleasant haze geneally unable to focus.

So it's normal.

BrilliantEditor will say, "Did you get any sleep at all?" and I'll smile graciously, like a martyr, and reply, "No, honey. I didn't. I tried to tell you I was going downstairs so that I wouldn't bother you with my reading. But you didn't wake up. So I crept out of bed. Did you sleep well, sweetie?" Kiss on the cheek.

Heh.

If I do say it he'll read this and know that I'm being a pain in the ass on purpose. And I'm not quite that cruel. And it's likely my own fault that I can't sleep. So why should I be a stink head?

The world is full of distractions. My world is full of them, anyway. Eyes closed, lights out and there are thoughts dancing around in there. During the day it's show tunes. I'm really pissed that they haven't gone away yet.

During the night, however, it's much more complicated. There's the list of things to do and the question of if I really have to do them. Should I be reading now? Should I get up and get the dog? Her snoring makes me sleepy. Is the other dog in pain? I took her for a nice walk today. Maybe it was too long. Maybe she needs doggy aspirin. It tastes like roast beef. That's what they say. But who the hell tried it out and said, "Yep. Roast beef"?

Does NyQuil really work? Will I sleep? The active ingredient is alcohol. SirDougg gave us a lovely bottle of scotch. That would work, too, I'll bet. It doesn't treat the stuffy nose, but it tastes better.

Then come the inappropriate thoughts. If I push BrilliantEditor really hard, I push him right out and can have the whole bed to myself. I wonder why the love interest in The Manchurian Candidate lived with her father. And it's a movie with a sassy rating. Why was she wearing night clothes? They could have gone with naked shoulders.

Naked shoulders are always suggestive and tempting. Do schools have dress codes prohibiting suggestive and tempting shoulders? I have a bruise on one of my shoulders. Does that cut out all possibility of having suggestive and tempting shoulders? Should anyone have them if I can't? (That's a late night martyr question. la la)

I think it's the exposed neck, which might look vulnerable. And then those naked shoulders which seem to negate the vulnerability. For both the tempted and the bearer of temptation, should they give into temptation, the rewards equal the risk.

Now I'm at the place where I can't stop thinking about what those rewards are. So then I think about the ones that I'm tempted by. And then I have to remind myself to if I want to go to sleep, this probably isn't the best course to take.

At this very moment, I have determined that writing it down isn't helping. I thought, "Hey! Won't this be great? The whole world will say, 'Did you get any sleep last night' and I can say, 'No, honies. I didn't.' and it will all be a big joke and I'll go right to sleep."

Instead of sleep it's necks and lips and breathing and heat and hands and shoulders and whispers...oh.

Damn you, Dotty Parker!

Thinkaboutsomethingelse. Thinkaboutsomethingelse.

I can hear the crickets and the peepers. Isn't it a lovely sound!

I can't sleep.

Posted by dotty at August 18, 2004 02:58 AM