I Can't Sleep
I have a complicated relationship with sleep.
We don’t talk on the phone for hours. We don’t exchange clever emails. We don’t even text.
We don’t do anything at all because…I can’t sleep.
Well, it’s not so much that I can’t, but that I won’t. After all, it’s such a bloody waste of time. I mean, you’re gonna get plenty of sleep after you die, right? So why rush things?
I’m convinced that eventually people will evolve and we will no longer require any more than an hour’s worth of sleep. Why the extra hour? Nostalgia.
Can you imagine what it would be like to have more time? Oh, the things I would do.
For example, I would finally have a chance to respond to all my emails:
“Thank you for contacting me, but I am currently quite content with the status of my penis as is. Should my position on this change, I will keep you in mind.”
“Dear Sirs, I appreciate you thinking of me when it comes to transferring millions of dollars from Nigeria to my account, but it just doesn’t feel right, you know? I’d rather make money the hard way.”
“Thank you for the offer of cheap medication, but I am not currently suffering from any of the ailments that you have mentioned. But the more time I spent reading this email, the more I’m certain that I will be in touch soon.”
“I’m sure your product is wonderful, but Replica watches are really overrated, I prefer the original—besides, they charge far less for the real thing in Chinatown.”
“Why of course I’d like to send you some gold bars.”
Of course I’d do the important things too. You know, like catching up every show available on Netflix. Books still take too much time. Though maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally write that great American novel. Except I’m Canadian.
But I digress…
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