Dear Jodi,

It’s your fault, stupid. You were kind of cold and a little droopy-eyed and you wanted to be alert for tonight’s writing workshop. So what did you do? You ordered that cup of hot, delicious coffee before class.

COFFEE AT 4:30 P.M.? Are you new? Your battles with me, sleep, are legendary. Have you forgotten that one December where I decided it would be a good idea not to visit ever? Clearly you have. All the things the doctors have told you to do, you do not do them. Sure, sure you got rid of the alarm clock and that helps somewhat.

And yeah, at least Allen Ginsberg has stopped chanting in your head. But, well, here you are wide awake writing imaginary letters to a verb.

Caffeine after lunch is the number one no no. So really, I have not much sympathy for you now that it’s one a.m. and you have a meeting at nine a.m. meaning you cannot be late for work.

Nope, no sympathy at all.

If you think that once I finally come to visit, after you have dropped Junot Diaz’s The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao on your face a few times because you cannot bear to stop, that I am going to leave readily at 7:30 a.m. you’ve got another thing coming missy.

You must abide by my completely arbitrary rules if you want to sleep. You are lucky I allow you the occasional Diet Coke. But coffee? Coffee after lunch will not be tolerate.

I will make you pay.

Yours truly,
Sleep