Midgets In My Brain: It's Loud In Here

November 30, 2011

It's loud in my brain. Can you hear it? Usually the answer is a resounding “yes”. I've always told people that I'm certain I drive myself crazier than I do others (and we already know I drive others crazy). The midgets in my brain talk chitter-chatter nonstop and refuse to shut up even when I'm trying to sleep (yes, I realize this is politically incorrect but I never claimed the opposite). One midget clown tells me I need to answer my emails, another pipes in with “check your voicemail”, the third scolds “work on your business plan”, a fourth twerp screams to “research menu items”, a 5th midget dude chimes in with “don't forget to email in payroll!” and so on and so on. I grab an ice cream bar to freeze out their voices for a few. Sleep eludes me most nights and I blame the midgets. I'm certain I'm not the only person who has so much compounded stress that as I lie there in bed I flip from left to right, from my stomach to my back and then repeat it again 10 times. The pillow moves from under my head to between my legs to meeting with my heavy fists to flying across the room. I liken insomnia to being front row at a Justin Bieber concert with thousands of screaming tweens in my ears. Absolute. Effen. Torture. And I know the second I finally pass out that my alarm will resound right in my face about an hour later. There's just no winning here, people. I have a philosophy that the makers of Keurig have love affairs with insomniacs. I gifted myself with my Keurig last month and I'm certain I'm spending almost as much on caffeine as I spent on cigarettes up until 7 months ago. I used to think that getting little sleep was a great strategy for being productive. I figured the longer I'm awake, the more work I can get accomplished. However, here I sit late at night with a mountain of paperwork, expansion plans, unanswered emails, un-filed paid bills (at least they're paid!) and all I can think about is my desire to kill off the midgets in my brain slowly, one by one in order to make them suffer as badly as they're making my focus suffer right now. I've finally learned that sleep actually breeds productivity. Which brings me to my public message to the obnoxious midgets in my brain causing all this ruckus: Shut the eff up tonight and let me go to dream land without your racket. I'll reward you with a mini cupcake in the morning. Cupcakes = Life Heather Cupcakes

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