Mind, we need to have a word.
I was overcome with exhaustion when I came home tonight, and readied myself for an early bedtime. I even washed my face and called my boyfriend to say goodnight at what seemed to be way too early in the evening.
I dragged myself to bed, kicked the cat out, read a page of "The Namesake" until my eyes felt heavy, and let myself fall asleep, the book falling from my hand to the pillow.
An hour later, I found myself jolted awake, by you, dear mind. You who are destined to drive me insane.
I tried to quiet you and will myself to fall back asleep, but you wouldn't shut the fuck up. For God's sake, why is it necessary to remind me of all the people who's lives are *probably* so much better than mine? Do you get off on when I start obsessing about my job and how I hate it so? At the anxiety I suffer from the mere thought of being there? I thought I heard you laughing at me under your breath about the fact that I ate that stupid cookie when I'm supposed to be trying to diet. You're taunting me with the fact that I haven't figured out my Christmas shopping yet, that I need to vacuum, that I'll never be as good of a writer as I want to be. That maybe no one loves me after all, and I'm all alone in my apartment, and its awfully quiet in here and why are my ears ringing?
Mind, you got me to get out of bed and turn on the tv to drown out the sound of you until, hopefully, I can make my way back to slumber again, to the dulcet tones of Everybody Loves Raymond.
And I was SO looking forward to a good's night sleep tonight!!!!