Sleep. Sleep. I wish I could sleep. Sleep would be fine. I can't sleep though. This angle puts pressure on my spine. This one hurts my hip. His elbow is digging into my ribs. Where can I put this arm? Where ever I put it, it will be frightfully numb by morning. The fingers will be cold to the touch, I'll shake it and it will slowly start to hurt.
Now I'm thinking about zombies. This is definitely not the way to get to sleep. That thing I need to do drifts across my mind. Men lurking in bushes outside a house I don't own yet. A myoclonic jerk, no fair. I was almost there.
I stare at the lights drifting across the ceiling. I move my pillows. I picture my brain, my spine. I imagine how I will feel tomorrow. My back will be sore. I'll be dizzy. I'll feel like puking, but not quite.
Sleep would be so very good right now.
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