Yesterday I was so tired at work that I went to the bathroom just to lean up against the cold empty arms of the stall and sneak in 5 minutes of the sweet nectar of sleep.
That’s correct: Yesterday, I fell asleep on the toilet.
Night Jackie is starting to seriously foil the responsible attempts of hardworking, nose-to-the-grindstone Day Jackie. Up until now it’s been a struggle I have easily balanced; bags under my eyes and unimpressive hair were showing up on Thursdays and it was an easy ride from there to the glorious embrace of Saturday morning sleep time.
But unfortunately, Night Jackie has been taking grip on Tuesday nights – which makes the ride to Saturday a very long and bumpy one.
Thus I found myself seeking slumber in a public restroom.
When I came to, it became obvious to me that this is a declaration of war by Night Jackie. She is actively working againt my new requirements as a member of adulthood. After a brief reflection, it is clear that I have slowly worked into a pattern of drowsiness and grumpery caused by her habits.
After some costly third-party analysis, I was able to pull together this breakdown:
The truly unfortunate part is that Night Jackie isn’t even doing anything cool. She’s not a super hero, a socialite or a stripper. She’s just a regular gal, huddled in the comfort of her home and currently nursing a heavy addiction to Prison Break on Netflix. What a lame-o.
…I have to go. I think she heard me and I fear tomorrow’s consequences. ♣