Going to bed is insanity?

If insanity is repeating the same activity over and over despite its clear lack of success, then going to bed at night with the intention of sleeping well might be my own personal form of insanity.

For various reasons, including the cool air and the thunder and hail, I was crushed even more than usual by dogs all night. They’d each find some weird reverse joint lock and pin me down like a mounted insect and I’d wake up with one or more limbs asleep. I’d wake up and try to strategically reshuffle myself and then try to crack my extremities back into shape and wait as they scrame back to life so I could go back to sleep for a few minutes and then repeat the whole thing.

At one point, poor Ripley freaked out from the dull Jurassic Park thuds of distant thunder and sprang onto the bed from out of nowhere–I thought she’d been next to me, but she was up to whine and pace the halls every time the weather worsened–-and she sprawled across my throat to get as close as possible to me.

It was pretty uncomfortable, but I left her there for a little while because I had the brief hope that if I left her there, then maybe my head would go to sleep like both of my arms. It didn’t work that way but maybe I didn’t wait long enough.