Another sunrise from the wrong side of day. The sixth in ten.

I wish I could say it was another extravagant late nite of conversation, company and wine, but closer to the truth is that I’ve been lying in bed again, sober and alone, for four hours to no avail. If sleep has not come by now, it isn’t coming. I feel defeated. I am in another world. Aches and pains reserved solely for the sleep deprived, a constant headache that accompanies only severe unrest, and a reality light years away from care-free smiles or laughter. No, things are not always peachy in Happydale.

What day is what, who is a friend, which is the dream when it comes to insomnia?

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