Sometimes I don’t want to go to sleep because it just means I’ll have to wake up what feels like immediately afterwards. As if staying awake for five minutes more of hazy night is somehow better than hearing the dreaded alarm.
But then it’s night and sense-making has been done away with and my apprehension of the next day keeps me from falling asleep.
Or delays it, I guess. I’m not ruling insomnia out as a lifestyle choice but I’m too young – sleep still hijacks my body when it wants to, black bag over the head and hello Siberia.