Sleep Is For Suckers

Hello, my name is Whit, and I’m a sleepaholic.

At least I used to be. I’m currently 3 years awake. It isn’t easy fighting the desire to sleep, especially with all of those sheep from Serta offering to trade me a soft matress for my S.A. token.

Yet I march on. I’ve gone to great lengths to deny myself the comforts of a good nights rest.

It makes my head hurt, true, like I’ve shunned asprin for the calming effects of (more) cowbell. Still, I think it is worth it.

It’s not that I’m saving myself, ala highschool, for the “right time”, in this case the big sleep. Rather, I have just accepted the fact that late to bed, early to rise, is not going to do anything for the circles under my eyes, and the sooner I accept it the better.

I’ve actually come to the point in my life where I feel like I’m missing something if I sleep past 8. As much as it pains me to realize, I’m becoming a morning person. To put it in perspective, that’s like Bush becoming a Muslim. It’s a big change.

I pass myself sometimes, there in the wee small hours of the morning; me stumbling through the dark, clutching a baby and searching for the coffee grinder, and the ghosts of my past, just returning from a night of everything and falling to bed with the light of the sun. Some people feel chills when they rub against the supernatural, but I’m only bumping into memories, and they leave me feeling warm and glad to be awake.

3 years awake and no rest in sight.

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