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Sleep, or Lack Thereof Sagen told me to turn off the computer and try to sleep.I didn't. I don't think it will do any good. I can't sleep, and I don't know why. I've been staying up until four in the morning for...I think tonight will make it five nights in a row. I browse random diaries to pass the time when I have to be quiet and find something to occupy myself, before I lay in bed with my eyes closed, blocking out the glaring muted TV for the two hours it takes me to find sleep. I've made a bad habit out of not being able to sleep without my television on. If nothing's on, I think about things that keep me awake, and I have to distract myself with something mindless. I make the mistake of saying "I'm not going to think about such and such," and of course that makes me think about whatever it is. Mostly it's depressing things. My friends or parents dying, myself dying, far-fetched morbid scenarios my brain comes up with to keep me awake. My brain doesn't like me very much. I've asked it very kindly to stop doing that, I would greatly appreciate it, but it won't. It likes scaring me. Instead of counting sheep, I think I'll count boyfriends. Celebrity boyfriends, of course, because I think I must be doing something terribly wrong as far as real ones go. I had one, once, in the fifth grade. He gave me a grandma flower pin to prove it. He is now no taller than he was then, and he lugs around a laptop that's about half his size everywhere he goes. Anyway, my other boyfriends are much better. I wrote them down; I have at least 25. That should hold me for a while. 2003-06-05 @ 1:48 a.m. |