I haven't been sleeping exceptionally well. But whatever, Paul Simon's wife reminds me daily - nobody got enough sleep. She then advises me to throw her in shallow water before she gets too deep, which like, immediately casts anything else she might say into the category of maybe not accurate.
So I got home, and was feeding the cats and then writing and then I was all - cool, bed time. At which point I promptly fell asleep for an hour. I woke up to E! blaring and as I have no recollection of turning on the TV can only assume that my worst fears have been realized and that Rumi's adoration of Kim Kardashian has driven him to develop Planet of the Apes style levels of mental ability. Ironic then, that repeated viewing of his favorite program will undoubtedly also be his mental undoing.
Since it was only 3am, (and, contrary to the musings of Rob Thomas, I was not lonely) I was all "Fuck This, My Skin Cannot Handle Another Night Of No Sleep" because you guys I look zit-covered and gross. So I took two Benadryl - guaranteed to knock me the eff out. And knock me out it did.
It also gave me one of the weirdest dreams I've ever had, involving Sesame Place, a murder in Italy, a private Rolling Stones Concert where Keith Richards was a little person and I turned into Mick Jagger and they made eat a cake in the shape of a giant slice of pizza with bugs on it. It was only funny because my doped brain was trying to give me a nightmare and couldn't even manage that properly instead it was all "Pizza! Bugs! Rock N' Roll! Italy I Guess!" which is mainly what is going on in my brain at any given moment anyway.
Source:
http://leaveittobeesus.blogspot.com/2012/08/my-cat-turns-on-tv-i-am-mick-jagger.html