When Head Meets Pillow  

There was a point in my life -- a place that now seems separated by an ocean of time -- that my body could withstand the toil of long sleepless nights. In fact, you could have piled heavy amounts of debauchery on top of those sleepless nights and I still wouldn't have cracked. At the very least I could have passed as a functioning member of society. As if years of hard living weren't enough, throw in two back-to-back screeching night owl babies on top of it all, and you'd think the notion of sleep would be just that for me; an afterthought which I'd get to if I have a free moment.

Last night was the first in many years that I didn't sleep at all, and quite frankly, it's not nearly as exhilarating as I remember it. By 9am I had already blown through my third and fourth wind, and resorted to propping myself up with sugar and caffeine for the rest of the afternoon. It's not as if I was up all night dancing or throwing a day-glo frisbee. Yet I'm noticeably sore today. From sitting. Stupid.

However, a solitary glimmer of life did find me during an impromptu trip to the grocery store. Odds are it's because of the old age and sleep deprivation, but the below sign seems to have been strategically placed for my amusement, which I'll take since it's pretty much all I had going for me today.

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6 Reasons to Live

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