My Childish Sleeping Habits

Remember protesting bedtime? As a kid, I fought my parents on every insistence that I just go to sleep. Though it was literally critical for my health (I got massive migraines as a child when I didn’t get enough rest), the prospect of shutting off the lights and closing my eyes when there was so much else I could be doing was revolting. My energy levels ramped up right around the time my parents got me under the covers, and I suddenly had dozens of stories to tell them.

Not much has changed since then it turns out.

Tonight, my wife and I went out for sushi. We got back home relatively early and decided to rewatch an episode of “Stranger Things,” during which I could hardly keep my eyes open. She asked more than once if we should turn it off and go to bed, and I objected each time.

Now we’ve finally climbed in bed and I’m wide awake, pointlessly perusing the internet and apparently writing a blog post. I’ve read about the shortcomings of “South Park,” scrolled aimlessly through a blog site I’d never visited before now, and discovered why Steve Bannon wears so many shirts at once.

These days I get about six hours of sleep a night, which probably isn’t enough though I’ve convinced myself it is. It’s just so hard to believe that lying here do nothing is the best use of my time.

Someone take away my computer privileges. My wife is responsibly asleep — why aren’t I?

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