Elusive Sleep

It’s 4 am. I’m wide awake. Why you ask? Who the hell knows! My throat is slightly sore, and I reach over to my nightstand for a cough drop. I keep a jar of them in the drawer so I never have to get out of bed to get one. This is a system I constantly congratulate myself on every time I’m in need of one. Inevitably you only need a cough drop in the middle of the night; it’s the law of physics. So after unwrapping this mentholated gift from the gods, I realize I have to pee. I never, and I mean never, wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I lay there for a little while contemplating if I can hold it, but my alarm isn’t due to scare the crap out of me for another three hours. Putting my bladder through that kind of restraint seems cruel, and since it did nothing to warrant said punishment, I reluctantly swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. I wear contacts, and I sleep in them most of the time. Now before you start a diatribe of how that’s not good for my eyes, let me explain my theory. I’ve worn contacts for the past 15 years. My lenses are the super thin, breathable; we’ll charge you more for them kind. In the time I’ve been sleeping in my contacts, my prescription has actually improved in both eyes by multiple levels, so take that all you nay-sayers! The only down side is when you wake up, your eyeballs and your eye lids have practically become one. Your contacts are screaming for saline, seeing the bottle through a blurry haze like a mirage in a desert. I’ve perfected the art of squinting through one half opened eye ball, and in the dark make my way to the bathroom. Only once I flipped the light switch on did my eyes think I was stranded on an airport runway. I felt like a vampire at sunrise, and promptly flipped that switch back off. It’s not natural for 4 am bathroom break to be illuminated anyways. I stumble back to my bed with my half opened eye, climb into my covers, and nothing. Not the least bit sleepy.  No sheep, no sugar plum fairies, no chocolate bars. Hey, if visions are supposed to be dancing in my head there is going to be chocolate; don’t judge. So I just laid there, sucking on my cough drop, and miracle of miracles finally succumbed to sleep and dreams of dinosaurs.