Little worse exists than the weekend’s end. That guttural “Mommy, I don’t wanna go to school tomorrow” groan … Only now my mommy lives 300 miles away (which would not spare me from a non-sympathetic “quit your whining” … good parenting doesn’t adhere to the boundaries of time and space) and my “school” now has way longer hours and, gosh darnit, no recess! So I wearily crawl into bed, much later than a sane responsible grown-up would due to a recent discovery of Merlin on Netflix, and pray for miraculously rejuvenating rest before my enemy called Morning sounds it’s battle cry at 6:00am.
But then, on rare occasion such as last night, my own brain decides to add salt to the wound of the weekend’s end by ensuring that sleep eludes me. It fires out nonsensical thoughts and questions like an incessantly chattering 3 year old.
What am I gonna wear to work?
I shouldn’t have had 3 … ok, 4 cinnamon buns.
Who is Merlin’s dad?
Gotta study for Tuesday’s quiz… tomorrow.
…. and on it goes (I obviously left out my really deep thoughts and earth shattering ideas for security reasons)
I lay there trapped inside my mind’s word tornado, the “me” standing in the middle of the chaos, reaching out to grasp onto the tail of at least one random thought as it flies past… Maybe if I can control just one of these runaways, it will calm the storm, since it seems that mentally repeating “please sleep, please sleep” has turned out to be a really weak offensive tactic.
As I ponder new strategies to quiet my oppressor, a side scene begins to take shape… in the little thought bubble above my head lies a snorer, the ultimate sleep thief, played by my brain. Drool crusted mouth falls open, emitting a rhythmic grating, like a dirtbike on the pillow next to you … kickstart, braaaaaaaap… kill switch… kickstart, braaaaaaaap… kill switch. Bloodshot eyes twitching, teeth grinding, the victim, played by a sleep-deprived me, plots a silencing. Quite handily, from the nearby drawer of my imagination, I pull out a super smelly sock and a roll of duct tape… oh, how inviting that open mouth looks now…mwwahahaha! With ninja-like agility, the sock is introduced to the dried out cave of Brain’s mouth as I guarantee the sock’s extended stay by generously applying the duct tape… not in strips.. no,no.. one continuous mummification of the entire head. Ha! Chew on that, Brain!!
Aaaaah…Sleep in heavenly peace.
editor’s note: in light of a freak oxygen deprivation accident, please forgive the author’s scatterbrainedness