"Mini-Latte", Mini-F'er

Time: 3:30 a.m.
# of sleep attempts: 3
# of dogs looking at me like I'm torturing them because they are too nice to leave me awake alone: 2
# of hours spent perusing the internet in between sleep attempts: ~2.5
Thoughts consuming my mind: Re-routing the WA portion of our bike trip
# of days until our bike trip: 37
Deadline to decide our new bike route: RIGHT NOW! (according to my mind)

# of lattes drank at 9:00 p.m.: 1 mother f'ing "mini' latte

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I think the result will be any different? Einstein said something like, "insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results". I believe this to be true, and so what exactly does that say about me. How many times have I talked about coffee being too much for me to handle? How many times have I detailed out the craziness that erupts from me 90% of the time after taking that first step and falling down the rabbit hole? How many times have I regretted the decision after drinking this not so sweet nectar of life? But for some reason tonight, I allow myself a coffee after dinner, believing that like other grownups, this is something I am actually capable of. It'll be fun, I tell myself. Now, it's almost four and I'm beyond wide awake. It's shocking really, except that it's not.

Coffee for me is that girl I think is my friend. She has a magnetic personality. She's charismatic. She tells funny stories. She's loud and attention seeking. Everyone seems to like her. She's basically the opposite of me and so for that very reason, she's seems fun. She usually has some pretty great ideas on what everyone should be doing with their time...tons of quirky plans that entice me into spending my time a little differently. And so I call her.

And then almost instantly, I remember that I don't really like her, but it's too late, I've already made plans. As soon as we're in the same room I remember how she is kind of a selfish bitch. I remember how her attention seeking behaviors are actually pretty obnoxious, how her funny stories are a little cruel, and how that magnetism I believe she embodied can be quite repelling depending on the moment. I remember how she's really only nice if I go along with her ideas. And I remember how she's vengeful if I suggest anything outside of what she wants. I remember all this and I regret having called her, but again it's too late. At this point I'm stuck with her.  

And that's where I'm at right now. A half hour ago, I was lying in bed staring into the darkness, grinding my teeth, trying to convince myself that I could sleep, that I could figure out this potential re-route in the morning. But it became obvious that she wasn't ready for bed yet. She was all, "no, no, no, you invited me out tonight and now we're in this for the long haul. What else can we do..." I imagine her hands pressed together in front of her face, fingers plotting out her next move, her laughter to be a mixture between Freddy Krueger and Dorothy's Wicked Witch.

I already tried pleading with her. I tried explaining how I haven't really been sleeping well the last few weeks and how I'm pretty exhausted. But she has no sympathy for me whatsoever. I want to be mad at her, but it's not really her fault. I did this.

What I need to do is remember this moment. I need to remember that while everyone else might like her, might be fooled by her supposed friendship, she's not my friend and she won't ever be. I need to remember that if she were, she'd care about me too, and that in this particular instance she'd want me to be able to sleep.

Oh well, I know she isn't going to change. Husband will probably be up in an hour or so. I should probably try to shake this bitch off with sleep attempt #4.

Good night?


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