cleary the sandman and i are not talking. he must be upset with me. maybe, it was the staying up until 4am last night and getting up a mere 4 hours later. maybe it was the pointless attempts at napping. i dunno what the hell the problem is, but i cannot sleep.

insomnia isn’t a new thing in my life. we’ve had our run-ins before. senior years of high school and college, various other stressful times in my life. i hate it. i like sleeping. i love sleeping. sleeping is good and good for you.

laying in bed staring up into the dark begging the sleep to come, that’s no fun. it’s no fun at all.

it’s tricky, this insomnia. i am stubborn, i don’t like to give into it and admit i can’t sleep. i will lay in bed and pretend like i am sleeping– going so far as to snore softly or drool a bit. but i am not kidding myself. i know i am wide awake, my frustration mounting with ever sleepless minute.

but i am stubborn. laying in bed, that’s trying. that’s fighting. that’s not giving up the ghost that sleep will soon descend and you will have won. laying in bed that’s not admitting defeat.

getting up, turning on your computer, aimlessly surfing the web, that’s admitting defeat. i am defeated.

i blame this defeat on my belly. it was making all sorts of awful feed-me noises. who in the hell gets hungry at 2:30 in the morning? so i gave up, threw aside the blankets and here i sit, defeated, in front of otto.