When I was younger last before last night I had this crazy notion that having insomnia would be all that, but apparently not because I have bee up since three in the morning and the past four hours have been full of death and mental decay and heavy reflection on the end of the world. Its that bad you guys.
I think the reason I thought being an insomniac is because some really great and monumental people had insomnia. The only one that comes to mind right now is Edward Cullen. And according to last months Enquirer John Travolta. He even had an emtional breakdown about it in the middle of an interview. Feel free to support him by joining the John Travolta Insomnia Awareness Group on Facebook.
But really Stephanie Meyer made the whole 'insomnia' thing really attractive in the Twilight Saga. I mean instead of having to sleep for half of the day, Edward got to stay up all night writing songs for his true love, admiring his collection of graduation caps, and not owning a bed. Plus he was a vamplire That basically sounds like the life. I feel so duped. This is probably how people feel after they watch funny Budwieser commercials and then decide to go get drunk and wake up the next morning in prsion for DUI. Prison is nothing like a Budwieser commercial. And insomnia is nothing like Twilight.
So here is how it happened: I was all headache-y and junk last night so I took a nap at five-thirty-ish and forgot to wake up and ended up sleeping for forever until three in the morning. Then I got up to get a drink and the world was all BAM you are no longer tired.
So I booted up the netflix and watched an episode of "Thats So Raven" (How totally Jr. High am I?) but that got old pretty fast so I thought sleep might be a good idea. But apparently The Powers That Be did not agree with me. So I pulled out the old recipie book and whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies while listening to a cd from former roomate Daniel and pretending I was back in college again. But I wasn't as my mother reminded me when she woke up and found me dancing to Regina Spektor in the kitchen. Also if it was college I wouldn't have fallen asleep until three in the morning anyway. So this whole post would not have existed.
Then I watched the sun rise and walked through the dew-y grass and enjoyed nature for a few seconds. I wanted to write a song for my true love, but my piano masterpiece would've woken up the whole world, plus no stuck-up, insanely weel read, fairly annoying burnettes who are physically incapable of closing thier mouths have come into my life lately so that idea was out the window. So I started a book. I really wanted to go somewhere but everything is the world shuts down at nine around here and if my parents woke up to the sound of their son driving away in thier car without telling them that would be bad news. So I justen showered and changed clothes and worked out and created/listened to a new playlist and checked up on my youtube subscriptions and wrote a blogpost and it is not even seven-thirty yet.
Insomnia would probably be a lot cooler if I lived off of blood.
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