No sleep for the wicked last night. Wicked—that's me, mes amis and by 'wicked' I naturally mean 'wicked AWESOME'. You knew that though.
Life is something that happens when you can’t get to sleep.
~ Fran Lebowitz
This suggests that I’m actually doing something while I lay in bed wondering where the fucking fuck the sandman is. We had a date DAMMIT! Nope, I’m staring at the ceiling, reviewing all the missteps I’ve made in this long life, feeling guilty about having hurt people (intentionally or not—usually not. I’m not a fucking monster, ya know!) and wondering why that goddamned watermelon flavored gummy has NOT kicked in yet. Yeah, that doesn’t sound like life—not a productive one anyway.
And now I may dismiss my heroine to the sleepless couch, which is the true heroine's portion - to a pillow strewed with thorns and wet with tears. And lucky may she think herself, if she get another good night's rest in the course of the next three months.
~ Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
Wait a minute…I’m a heroine because I can’t sleep? Thanks Jane!
In their previous lives, poets were bats, and thinkers were owls.
~ Michael Bassey Johnson, Song of a Nature Lover
Me? I was a cat, curled up on a fleece blanket on a beautiful, pale burgundy, Victorian era couch and I was SLEEPING! Also, I was not then or now a poet and I’ll never be mistaken for a thinker.
No comments:
Post a Comment