A Letter To The Elusive

Dear Sleep,

You win. I give up trying to catch you. Is that what you want?

Why can’t you be reasonable? You only like me when I’m holding a Calculus textbook or subjecting myself to Jane Austen’s periodophobic novels.

I’m tired of tiring myself out.

Go ahead. Hang out in lecture halls, torment cramming college students, or do whatever it is scumbag body functions do when they’re being contradictory.

What, did you think I’m going to pick up a Calculus book just to get you back? Ha!

In your dreams.

– The Sheep Counter

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