Insomnia

In case you think I’ve gotten too serious in my writing, or that all I write about is guys, here’s my impression of insomnia for you:

Insomnia is having hiked 20 miles since 1:30 am, climbed from 8,000 to 14,000 feet and down, hitchhiked nine miles in the rain to get back to the original trail head, and still not being able to sleep when you finally get home. 

I’ve been awake for almost 40 hours now, and I’m in the kitchen looking for something to eat other than my roommate’s popcorn, the one onion I’ve got, and the wilting peanut butter and jelly sandwich leftover from hiking.

This past six months, I’ve tried sleepytime tea, melatonin, reading, not reading, special yogic breathing bullshit, placing my feet where my head usually goes, sleeping sitting up, ear plugs, sit-ups, lights on, lights off, shirt on, shirt off, not looking at my credit card statement in bed, Jerry Seinfeld, a shaman, Benadryl, a Kroger’s sleep aid, Ambien, and Ativan. Maybe the Kroger’s sleep aid was discounted because (news flash) it doesn't work, so nobody's buying it? Except for me. Because I’m at the point where I’ll try anything.

And thoughts that scurry through my brain like terrible little mice while I'm trying to sleep? Ready? Here we go:

Is that my roommate snoring? Did he always snore like that? Why didn’t he text me back? Did the kale in my teeth really gross him out enough to never contact me again? Or maybe he doesn’t have service. Did I leave the faucet running? Or he got kidnapped. Oh my God I’m crazy. What if I never get a job? If I don’t get a job, I’ll have to sleep on a borrowed mattress on the floor for the rest of my life. I wonder if there are spiders on this floor. Is it really true we eat eight spiders a year in our sleep? I’m hungry but I can’t eat any more of my roommate’s popcorn or he’ll notice. Maybe eating his popcorn is bad karma, and that’s why I can’t sleep. I don’t know if I believe in karma. I don’t know if I believe in God. Maybe I’ll try praying and that will help me sleep. Okay, here we go: Dear God, you’re great. Can you put me to sleep now? Thank you. Oh shit I think someone’s breaking into the apartment.

P.S: No matter how desperate you are, never take Ambien. It will mess with your short-term memory so badly you’ll find yourself browsing text messages to remember your best friend’s name.