I’ve been having trouble sleeping for a few nights in a row.  I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been drinking caffeine later in the day or what, but over the years my nighttime ritual and my lack of acceptance of anything other than perfect sleeping conditions have intensified dramatically.  Maybe I’m secretly a princess (Mom and Dad – are you secret royalty?).  And while I think a pea would probably smoosh pretty easily under my weight and the weight of a hundred mattresses, here are other things that may indicate my gentle, sensitive nature:

  • The princess and the tiny wrinkle in the mattress pad
  • The princess and the sliver of air getting into the blanket cocoon
  • The princess and the unevenly distributed blankets
  • The princess and the pee
  • The princess and the cup of water that spilled all over the bed
  • The princess and the thermostat
  • The princess and the breath hitting any part of her, even her own breath.

So, anyway, I think that all sorts of external things are playing a role in keeping me up, even beyond 5pm cups of tea.  But that’s neither here nor there (nor does it belong here, specifically, on this blog).  What does belong on this blog is this jam:

About apheckel

one world at a time.
This entry was posted in lists, music opinions, video cop out. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to whiner

  1. Mom says:

    Yes, as a matter of fact, I do think we are royalty if one is to believe the slight hyperbole regarding our Lebanese heritage. Or at the very least our ancestors were extremely rich and practically ruled Beirut. Too bad about all those wars or we could be planning trips to the villa. Regardless, your sleeping predilictions are at least partly genetic. Ditto to the breath thing and also to any bodily contact whatsoever once sleeping commences in earnest. Don’t know about you, but I always have to face outward with the pillow at an exact angle to support head, chin, and shoulders.

    Your sensitivities have been around since babyhood and make you all the more adorable. XO, Mom

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