Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany's"

So that’s pretty much it right there. Sleep is eluding me, like the cats when it’s time to go out in cold weather. I have been chasing sleep for years, since right after we got the  cats, actually. At first it was like getting up with a baby during the night: they wouldn’t sleep long, and they were exceptionally hungry. Plus they cried a lot and couldn’t always find their bed (or the litterbox). Then it was anxiety that kept me up, and after that, well who the hell knows.

All I know is that yesterday I met with the head-shrinker for what felt like the 37th time in two months and told her that I was tired. Like, this is how tired I was yesterday afternoon:

BB at 12:45 pm: So I’m not sure what time you want to leave for your doctor’s appointment today, but I’ve already gone to the grocery store and gotten stuff for make your own pizza night.

Me at 12:46 pm: Sounds good to me.

BB at around the same time: Also, I put some gas in your car and got myself some dinner for this weekend. Not sure what night you’ll be gone, but I’ve got something to eat.

Me: Saturday, I’m going out Saturday night.

BB: Ok, well I’ll talk to you later, whenever you come home from lunch.

Voicemail Lady: To save this message, please press 1. To delete this message, press 5.

Me: Oh fuck.

She gave me Ambien, which is fine, except that I’ve never taken anything other than Tylenol PM and I’m slightly concerned that I will either become instantly addicted or someone will find me wandering the streets naked at 3am.

Sweet dreams to the rest of you sleeping-soundly bitches. I’LL GET MINE ONE DAY.