Could it be because I drank 7 glasses of sweet tea (liquid southern crack goodness) throughout the course of the day? Yes, this could be a reason, but I my body has adapted to drinking a pitcher of tea a day and this no longer affects me. I no longer have the shakes, nor do I foam at the mouth, or suffer from erratic eye twitching from over consumption. I have succumbed to my addiction and I love the precious.
Could it be because I stayed up watching Forensic Files in which a young women was hacked into little pieces and they solved the case (in under 30 minutes, no less) by identifying the perpetrator through a wayward microscopic hair that had fallen off of a dogs butt onto a blanket used to transport the victim? Again, yes...this could be a reason. But I am sufficiently disturbed enough after YEARS of watching crime shows that this sort of thing no longer bothers me the way that it used to. (or the way it should)
Maybe it was because I had also just finished reading a novel about a serial killer that preyed on prostitutes, torturing them with poisonous spiders before killing them. Eh...this isn't the reason...it's just fiction, and I've read far worse before bed.
It could be because, after having had three kids, my poor deformed bladder will only hold 4 ounces of liquid at any given time and I have to get up 3 times at night to ensure that I don't become a bed wetter. (A situation I am sure my husband would not enjoy) This too is a problem, but probably not THE reason.
Could it be because my cute, sweet, precious cat-dogs are busy groom-licking themselves while lying underneath my side of the bed? A possibility. I am not willing to rule this one out, but I know deep down this isn't the REAL reason I can't sleep.
So...what's the story? Why am I not sleeping tonight? If anything I should be getting a great nights sleep. My husband is on duty tonight, I have the entire bed to myself.
hmmm...maybe it is because I am being torn to hell by two aggressive vampire mosquitoes.
I have 10 bites on my left arm and hand, 4 bites on my right. I have gotten up looking for the little bastards no less than 15 times in the last hour and have only managed to kill one. The remaining elusive mosquito must be using some type of Klingon cloaking device, because no matter what tactic I employ, I cannot find him. But I can hear him. eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......
I decide to bury myself under all my covers, but now I am thinking of coffins, Edgar Allen Poe's The Premature Burial, having my head wrapped in a dry cleaning bag and every other suffocating thought my sick imagination could can up with. *sigh*....
Alright...that's it!!...I now have two bites on my jaw and one near my ear; the little turd is under the covers with me. To add insult to injury...I have run out of benedryl cream. grrrrrr.
There is only one thing left to do....600 thread count buttery soft Pima cotton sheets be damned.
I must have DEET. And lots of it. Off! Deep Woods Insect Repellent, in fact.
Not that sissy Avon Skin So Soft. You know that crap never works.
A quick trip outside, a liberal spray of the strongest, yet still legal amount of DEET available in the United States, and I am ready for bed. I smell like a skunks unwashed @ss, but I dare that little bastard to try to bite me now.
Yeah..I know...nasty. I don't want to hear it. Desperate times, desperate measures and all that. I will buy new sheets tomorrow.
*yawn*....'night.
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