I miss you. I miss having consistent rendezvous avec you. I keep telling my brain to shut off, but she is not listening and here I am, wondering if it's better just to get up now in order to avoid finally passing out and being late for work. Can I make a deal with the Sandman? Can I promise him my soul if he will provide me with 6-8 hours of sleep every night for the rest of my life?
Consider my offer, dear Sleep. It will be beneficial to both of us.