If addictions are anything like what I’ve experienced today, I will abound in sympathy.

For the past two nights I have gotten 4 or less hours of sleep. Four hours is that magical amount when you can still tear yourself out of bed, but your alarm has to be on its highest volume and snooze must be pressed a minimum of three times before you are even conscious enough to say, “If I don’t get up now, they’ll fire me.” Well thankfully I have not been fired. though I suppose if I were, I could catch up on lost sleep.

I have not often felt such a strong urge to sleep as I have felt today. It’s all I could think about– all I wanted. My brain is on a leash, neeing to be yanked back into place to do anything productive. Sleep appears like a delicious, juicy pear in the midst of a desert of salt. I want the juices to dribble down my cheeks, feeling the cool sweet squish on my tongue as the delight sinks down into my stomach with a happy swallow. It’s seductive. It’s perfection. It’s everything.

Is that what addictions are like?

Anyone for a nap?


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