I love my sleep.
I miss my sleep when it’s not there.
I miss my dreams when I’m awake, and look forward to them when I lay down like I’m buckling in to a theme-park ride.
Even the bad ones, I relish. It is my brain untangling the Gordian Knot of thoughts of my day.
I know that there are drugs available that make you feel like you’re really awake, but if there was a drug that made me feel like I’d had eight solid hours of shut-eye, I’d be an addict.
As someone who had destroyed my sleep patterns I worked the night shift for five years throughout my early twenties, I covet sleep like I’m breaking a commandment of Moses.
Nap, nigh-nigh, beddie byes. Blissful Slumber.
I love you.
I love sleep too.
Sometimes I wish I could trade places with my cat.
They say cats sleep 18 hours a day. Mine sleeps 23 and a half. She only gets up to eat.
I could get used to that.