Why This Blog is So Necessary to Humanity

Thursday, November 24, 2016

How to Get a Good Night's Sleep (Unless you are The Boy)

How to Get a Good Night's Sleep (unless you are The Boy)

The Boy has this incredible ability that I literally cannot get my head around. It's something that I admire beyond words and yet another indicator that he is the superior human. What is this trait then you ask?

He is one of those skilled minds that once in a reclined position has the unprecedented ability to fall asleep.

This is an ability that I clearly do not possess. 

I can't tell you why I can't fall asleep more often than not. It's not because I am an unhappy person. Sometimes I can't fall asleep because I am happy.

It is true that I am not always losing sleep because my life is so awesome though. Sometimes I cannot fall asleep due to excessive worrying...

Yes, sometimes I am unable to fall asleep when I am sad...

No matter what I'm feeling it all comes down to the fact that I just cannot seem to fall asleep.

The Boy however is amazing at it.

Most nights I lay there listening to him sleep and wondering what part of my brain is fractured in a way that has handicapped me from being able to perform this basic human function. Even if I am exhausted there always seems to be a light on in the back of my mind that just won't turn off. I will feel like I am drifting away into sleep and then my mind perks back up saying, 'You left the light on woman. It's your turn to get it.'

So I lay there...contemplating life. Contemplating how The Boy is so magical. Contemplating the few times in the past that I fell asleep and what I did to accomplish such a feat...

And then something magical does happen...


Finally I am not alone in my sleeplessness! I knew that he and I were meant to be. We are alike even in sleeplessness. Two restless souls weathering the night together, gazing at each other through bloodshot eyes while sharing stories of the past and hopes for the future. We could plan our entire lives together with these extra hours of quality time. We'd be the greatest of comrades facing the dead of night with nothing but intrigue and a lust for living up every moment. We'd be unstoppable!

That would be us...the sunken-eyed duo with a love so strong and so bright it lit up the dark hours of the night when the sun forsakes us. We would feel no exhaustion because our bond fuelled our souls. Yes...I could see it now and I was ready for it.

Until I realized that he just needed to go to the bathroom.

And when he gets back...

He falls right back asleep again.

And so I lay prostrate with frustration and bewilderment with my inadequate brain and it's blatant lack of respect for my needs.

I knew that there must be a way to draw upon The Boy's strengths and ensnare them for my own using. I'm totally childish and I've heard it said a kid's brains is like a sponge. I could absolutely soak this technique out of him. So I have begun the process of absorbtion through the most obvious form: skin contact. 

Over the course of the past few years I have assumed the following remedial positions and have found that they have greatly aided my endeavours. The Boy can back me up on the success rate of these postures due to the fact that he often wakes up to find me asleep in them which validates their effectiveness.

The Clinger 

It goes without saying that whole body contact ensures maximum absorption potential making this ideal.

The Considerate Clinger

 Sometimes you feel guilty for crowding The Boy. You know, because you are thoughtful like that. So you assume this position of milder contact once you have absorbed enough drowsiness.

The Face Plant

I found this to be great for smushing negative thoughts. 

The Toe 

Sometimes The Boy is not being cooperative and sleeps in a position that does not allow for satisfactory clinging or face plants such as when he faces my side of the bed. 

In such emergency situations you can utilize your lower appendage and seek contact in this manner.

This is versatile for times when you find yourself feeling more comfortable sleeping in the opposite direction as well. 

To the men out there who wake up to find their women sleeping in any of these positions, now you can see that they have valid reasons for this and you'd do well to put a leash on your exasperation. If you have any compassion in your heart for your lady's struggles with sleeplessness you will quit your complaining and go back to sleep since you are so good at it anyways.

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Why Vaccinations are BAD

Vaccinations are another one of those modern parent arguments that I have always shied away from because I didn’t know enough about it to speak for or against it. Being shot up with life threatening diseases has been something that has been done to me against my will for years but it was more so against my will because who the fork wants to be round up outside of your classroom like a bunch of cattle and stabbed with a needle by some overtired, over worked nurse that doesn’t want to see your face either.

It is only now as an adult after being forced to do another round of mandatory vaccinations that I have solidified my opinion that vaccinations are BAD.

Why are they bad? Because if you vaccinate a hypochondriac you might as well just kill them.

You go in there with your chest held high thinking you are going to show them what a boss you are when you don’t even cry uncontrollably and kick them in the face when they inject you. You are a warrior and you’re going to take this injection like a hard, Spartan woman who shows no mercy and feels no pain.

You see the nurse looking sweet and innocent with her blonde highlights that fool no one and you can’t imagine that anything she could do would be that bad…

Then she sits you in her cold, plastic, high chair like a five year old and gives you the rundown of all the harrowing things that may happen to you over the next few days and you begin to feel your resolve slowly peel away layer by layer until your nerves are fully exposed and ripe for devouring.

The truth becomes very clear: She is trying to kill you.

You don’t even feel the injection because you are too busy hyperventilating over the pamphlet of all of the possible devastations that may rain down on your system: fever, rash, pneumonia, seizures, joint pain, deafness, bleeding disorder, vomiting, fainting, reduced ability to move your arm, COMA?!?!? AAAAAAAND not to mention the lingering fear that knowing your luck your body may not fight off the virus and you'll end up with chicken pox, tuberculosis, measles, mumps, rubella, tetanus, diphtheria and pertussis ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

And then to top it all off they bill you for it….

The days to follow are a slow trudge through a chasm of impending affliction where there is nowhere to take cover from the fiery hail of symptoms that will no doubt come crashing down upon you, pinning you to the ground and burning you up slowly in the deep pit of hell designed for those whose immune systems were so superior that they had to infect them with chicken pox by force…

Every single itch and pain is a sign that the diseases are taking over. And when the joint pain and body aches set in you lay in bed and decide what song to have them play at your funeral.

No matter how many times that you throw a fist full of logic in the face of your anxiety your diseased punches are no match for anxiety’s Sweet Pea Pernell Whittaker reflexes. And in true Sweet Pea style…it’s going to hit you back and you won’t even see it coming.
All reasoning eventually comes full circle dropping you back into the ice cold water of rediscovering the fact that you are dying a horrible, slow, $637.34 death.

As you may know by now, this is the territory where the Anxious Brain is king.

Even after you know you are out of the woods for being at risk you can never know for sure and you are constantly on high alert for any sign of your approaching demise. 

It’s not even a matter of self fulfilling prophecy because now even a bug bite becomes the beginning of the rash that will work it’s way up your nose and on to your brain and chew through your faculties until you start chewing on the furniture because the leprechaun in your toothpaste jar said it would make you fly.

And once you see the signs you know the end is nigh and you, appropriately, lose your shit.

So, if I never post again you know why. It is because The Man decided that I was too strong…too dangerous…too unaffected to allow me to live my life without being exposed to things that I would never otherwise have been exposed to and they decided that whether by chemical warfare or emotional unraveling I had to be taken down. And so I write you this with a heavy heart and itchy forearm while I still have strength to type. I love you my readers. Not as much as I love The Boy but you guys never let me drag you to watch Kung Fu Panda and he did so you are just going to have to deal with that.

P.S. If something really does happen to me can someone please make sure that my mom routinely worms my cat? He hangs out with a tough crowd and keeps getting them and it’s really disturbing to be sitting on the couch and have a worm infested, cat butthole be shoved in your face.