On Ella’s Poor Sleeping Decisions

Sometimes, I decide to stay up until four thirty in the morning writing, and then wake up less than five hours later.

It always seems like a really great idea at the time–I’m on a roll, and the exhaustion fades after I hit my second wind at around two–but then I wake up in the morning, feeling a little loopy with my eyelids burning. And then I use way too many filler words. The amount of times I can say “stuff,” “like,” and “things” in a conversation about teaching monkeys to use money* can be pretty embarrassing. I’m also prone to forgetting about Carter’s pardons when playing Trivial Pursuit later on.

I think that getting a little more sleep tonight just might be the right move**. I’m going to seriously mess up my Sporcle scores if I don’t get my act together.

In other news, yesterday, my parents celebrated their twenty-fourth wedding anniversary and over twenty-six years together. Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!

*This sounds like a joke, but researchers actually have been working on experiments like this to explore economic concepts like game theory and the connections between the way animals and humans calculate risk.

**Update: So after I put in all of this effort to go to bed early, I ended up accidently punching the headboard really, really hard in my sleep while rolling over and then not being able to sleep for about an hour in the middle of the night because of it.

I’d really like to know what I was dreaming at the time. It may have been that reoccurring one where someone tries to rape Pippa and I while we’re walking around Boston at night. Usually, I end up trying to stab the rapist with a knife in an attempt to give Pippa enough time to run away, but my efforts always seem to fail. I might have been mid-stab when I rolled over.

4 thoughts on “On Ella’s Poor Sleeping Decisions

    • It really is. The problem with most of my dreams is that I seem to have them over and over and over again. I have this reoccurring dream where I’m getting married and everything is going wrong. Usually, it ends up with me freaking out while Lily tries to get me to drink white wine (which I hate in real life) and Audrey has messed up the flowers. I don’t know why I consistently dream this–I’m eighteen, and I’m not getting married anytime soon!

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