And I thought Sunday night was bad. Last night was the worst bout of insomnia I’ve had in years. I went to bed with a book, hoping it would lull me to sleep. Usually, if I’m tired enough, a book will knock me out in 15 minutes, 30 minutes max. But not this time. I didn’t even start yawning until 4:25 am. It was kind of neat, actually, seeing the almost-full moon at that time of the morning. It was very bright and cast faint shadows across the yard. Very pretty. But it wasn’t helping me get to sleep. I suppose it didn’t help that the book I was reading was No Place Like Home, the newest Mary Higgins Clark mystery. That was a real page-turner. But even so, at some point my body should have shut down and fallen asleep. But it didn’t, not until 4:30. Once I started yawning my brain quickly shut down and I started dozing off. But just as I was on the verge of sleep, I heard something whistling. My first thought was, of course, that something was wrong with one of the girls, and I woke up immediately. But it was just some stupid bird who figured out that I was about to fall asleep and, well, he just couldn’t let that happen, not when dawn was just an hour away. Nice try, bird, but once I discovered that it was you and not one of my daughters, I flopped back down and passed out almost immediately. After two hours of sleep, the girls came in and woke me up. I got them ready for and off to school, and then sat down on the couch to finish the rest of Mary’s book. It had a great yet unexpected ending. You really must read it.
I feel my train of conscious thought about to derail. I don’t know if I can together put sentence a coherent. Barking mutt is at truck delivery. continue can’t must lay down zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz