Can’t Sleep — Clowns Will Eat My Gall Bladder
It’s hard to be philosophical, much less of anything else when you’re tired. It’s hard to sleep when all you seem to think about is that you had abdominal surgery just less than a week ago, and you aren’t convinced that everything in there is tied down securely — that organs won’t shift around, and arteries open back up. And while you’re mostly paranoid, you’re partly right. And that’s why it’s quarter-till-four and I can’t sleep. I have valium in the medicine cabinet, but I don’t want to start that kind of habit. I would drink a glass of wine, except that will just make me groggy in the morning, and I’ve had a whole bottle today already. Okay, eyes are tired, it’s now 4am. I’ll give it a shot and try to crash out, despite my fears of my organs dislodging and my waking to a pool of blood and viscerae in my bed.
