Insomnia
You know you're having trouble sleeping when you start dictating to yourself your last will and testament...
What? Normal people don't do that?
Sleeping is something that I usual don't have too much trouble doing. I mean, as a kid it would take me a long time to fall asleep, but in the more recent years it hasn't been an issue. I'm good at sleeping. I wish I was one of those people who didn't like to sleep too much because it wastes so much of the day, but I'm good at it! Sleeping likes me, and I enjoy it. It's like being firmly rooted, enveloped in your sheets and mattress, while falling away. Waking up I guess is more often than not like hitting the ground, which is unpleasant and rather unfortunate.
But maybe with all the screwing around with the computer for too much time before I go to sleep has addled my brain a wee bit. I don't know.
My mind has gone through the usual daily thoughts, goals, dreams, aspirations about the future,  anxieties about the present, the multitude of regrets of the past, the time machine I would build to change all my fuck ups, addressing all my fuck ups, worrying about the fuck ups I can't change, worrying about the fuck ups I'm too lazy to change, and going through the list of the fantasies of all the things I want to be and do and see and live. And then my brain settled on my will, which of course doesn't exist, and is just rather bloody dramatic of me.
I really don't think I've pulled an all nighter for college. I feel that I should before it's over. I guess this wouldn't count since I am not studying, nor thinking of any kind of work whatsoever. The prospect of staying up makes me sleepy though. I have to be up at 7am. Oh dear.
I just want to be able to throw a dark cloth over my brain like you do to a birdcage to make the little twittering bastards know its bedtime and that if they sing or chatter any more you will feed them to the cat.
If I believed in reincarnation I would like to think this is my first time around in a long cycle of cat lives. It would explain a lot, and would make things so much more excusable. Don't blame me for scratching your face, I used to be a cat.  In one life I would have been a majestic rather obese persian long-hair, too large to successfully make it up onto the sofa, yet with a regal girth as I swayed across luxurious carpets. In another lifetime I was a mangy feline, a bit on the schitzophrenic side, calmly sleeping in the sunshine one moment, and then bolting across the yard for no good reason, to chase my tail like a demented baffoon, only to stop and slowly return to my chaise longue to sun bathe a bit more before attacking the baby trying to learn to walk.
This is the life I feel I was designed to be so very, very good at.
Alright, time to try and sleep so I'm not too grumpy in the morning.