Bound in a Walnut Shell

A second frustrating night of sleep has just come to its dissatisfying conclusion.  My throat is sore – so sore, in fact, that it hurts when I snore.  This wouldn’t be a problem if I didn’t snore all the damn time. Despite contrary protestations to my wife, though, I know I do.  Now, it turns out that if I raise my chin just so, and squish my pillow just so, I don’t snore… and I can get a few minutes of sleep.  But inevitably, my chin drops, or my pillow settles and I’m awakened by a painful snore.  I even had a few moments last night where I woke up with a gasp, making me think it may be time to get checked for sleep apnea.  And none of this would matter in the least if the sleep I got was peaceful.  Last night’s sleep was definitely not.

All night I was troubled by bad dreams…  There’s something about a drug we’re developing.  It’s a mind control drug?  Or maybe a drug to facilitate psychic communication?  It’s not clear to me now.  What is clear is that the company has plans for the drug.  These plans are less of the “Let’s use animated pandas in the marketing” variety and more of the “Let’s overthrow the government and seize power for ourselves” variety.  But first, they needed test subjects. I was test subject number two.  Test subject one had been too frightened to generate a plan to destroy the research program.  But now he had me as a partner and we’ve worked out some sort of plan.  I don’t recall the details, because every time I wake up  I lose track of my partner. When I eventually fall back asleep, I spend fruitless ages searching for him, and confirming that we remember the plan.  By the time I track him down, I’m waking up again. 

Now, it is 6:30, and I’ve finally given up on sleep.  As I start my day, my mind is layered with frustration at plans unfulfilled, evil unchecked and restful sleep unattained.  Despite this, I insist today will be a good day.    Through sheer force of will, I will make it so.  Wish me luck.

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