Sleep

Sleep, you are a thing I contend with every night.  Its almost as if you've taken on physical attributes.  I think you are a woman because you are fickle and moody and we are like that.  Some nights you are my happy friend and other nights you are distant and aloof.  You arrive eventually but every morning you overstay your welcome.  I can't get you to leave when I have to go to work. 

Sometimes I want to say to you - I don't need you.  You are a big waste of time to me and I'm tired of dealing with you.  But my body won't let me do that.  I wish God had created us with a mechanism to recharge that was easier to manage, like plugging into an outlet for an hour.  But that would be weird.  And imagine all the dreams we would miss. 

I acknowledge that when sleep takes long to arrive, its my fault.  I give in to my wandering, roaming mind as I lay down when I'm supposed to be still and quiet.  I'm like a little kid who doesn't want to go to bed because the play time is over.  That must be it.  My evenings are my play time and when I wake up, its work time.   So I have to make my peace with Sleep.  She's not as difficult as I make her out to be.  Sometimes the answer lies within ourselves.