man I hate it when I can’t sleep. It’s usually on a Sunday night, I lie there shifting about trying to assuage the constant back pain (it never works) and worrying and wondering. What exactly am I doing here? Why do I keep living in this rainy, cold depressing rain hole? And why do I stay at my meaningless, unfulfilling job? And why have I gained 30 pounds in the last year? And how am I going to lose it? None of the answers are ever there. They never come. Just the constant questions. And the pain. It frightens me, the pain. I’m beginning to wonder if there’s something really wrong with me. I’m way too young to be in this much constant pain. Sigh. And so I’m awake, turning over and over, shifting my position to no avail. I’ve counted sheep before, that must be a joke – a rumor someone started years ago, maybe back when people had farms and sheep but it certainly never worked for me. Warm milk would probably just give me diarrhea. And so, here I am, typing, on the couch in the cold living room, the cat keeps walking across my lap and trying to step on the laptop. He’s big on attention. I have to get up for work in 6 and a half hours, soon it will be 5, then 3, then I’ll be there, in that uncomfortable chair, staring at the screen pretending to do important things when really it’s all nothing, worthless, pointless. And I keep going, because I need the money. Sigh. I just want some sleep.