When Insomnia isn’t insomnia

Hi again, God.  It’s 3 in the morning.

Insomnia.

Not exactly.

Remember that when you’re half asleep at 2 in the afternoon and can’t say a coherent sentence.

Well, I took that expensive sleep aid around 9pm, started to go to bed and a storm formed over the house.

What you mean to write is that the storm had been forming over your house an hour before you went to sleep and had you looked at the weather report you would’ve known about it .

Had I known about it, I would have waited until midnight to go to sleep.  Having 4 dogs piled on the equivalent of a twin-sized bed doesn’t leave a lot of room for a human.  Then I had to take the fan out of the window because the rain was coming in that direction and the lightning was hitting our eyes like some kid assaulting us with a laser pointer.  As much as my body tried to do it, sleep wasn’t possible.  Then when I finally got to sleep in a position that resembled being drawn and quartered, I woke up with the gentle giant rolled onto my left leg.  Do you know what it’s like to have 85 pounds of dog tourniquet on your leg?

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One of these things is not like the other, but I’m too tired to figure it out.

Perhaps if I had a leg, I’d know.

By the time I was able to get feeling back in that leg, walk to the bathroom, put the fan in the window and come back to bed, I was up. 

Hence, the reason you’re typing.  Obviously you want me to do something for you.  What is it?

Nothing, really.  It’s just that there are days when insomnia really isn’t INSOMNIA.  It’s poor planning, bad timing, and a pack of frightened dogs. I just needed someone to bitch at.

Do you think you’ll be able to go to sleep again?

Right after I finish analyzing tonight’s foray into sleeplessness.  Tomorrow night, I’ll check the weather first, try some sleepy-time tea, take the sleep supplement, and see if I can sleep through the night again.  If it works, maybe…just maybe it can help someone else, too.

I’d suggest that you refrain from eating or you’ll be dreaming about volcanoes all night again.

It sure beats dreaming that you’re watching the first episode of Smallville while sitting on a toilet putting A & D ointment on a hemorrhoid.  Where do these dreams come from?

A not-quite-right mind.  *laughs*

That’s what I get for asking an open-ended question.  Asshole.

Feeling better?

I suppose.  How should one feel after one calls God an asshole?

Very, very sleepy.