I’m not wearing a ladies’ wetsuit.

I have a problem with sleeping. I always have. Me and sleep, we just don’t get along.

Different things keep me awake. Sometimes, it’s happiness. Sometimes, I’m so excited about nothing in particular, that I just sit straight up in bed for three hours. Sometimes I think way too much about things that don’t need to be thought about at all, and I toss myself around the mattress for eight hours. Sometimes, I actually do fall asleep, only to wake up a few hours later, usually to the interruption of a good dream, or the conclusion of a nightmare.

Sometimes, I just can’t fucking sleep for no reason in particular.

Over the years, I’ve found that the best thing to put me to sleep is to do algebra. Algebra is the one thing in the world that will, hands down, make me physically and emotionally tired. The only reason I (mostly) stay awake during my current math course is because I’m sort of freakishly in love with my professor and I take any chance I have at all to stare at him. There’s just one flaw in this method; I fucking hate algebra.

So, I read. I read until I get frustrated that the author didn’t write what I wish they had written. I am unsatisfiable when it comes to… readable… things… leading me to write my own crap.

But the thing is, I can’t write. I’m pretty sure the only relationship shittier than the one between me and sleep is the relationship between me and creativity. Whereas with sleep, we occasionally get along, creativity doesn’t have anything to do with me. Growing up, it always sat on the opposite side of the school cafeteria. In the same way that I would do stupid shit all through middle school to get that one boy I liked with the pretty blue eyes and the silky black hair that was always trying to consume his face to notice me at all, I tried the same with Creativity, to no avail.

But I still try. I try and try to write.

The only time I ever get anywhere is when I write to the music I’m listening to. (The other night, I wrote [terribly] this… thing… about a botched military experiment called The Virus, which caused people to turn into… Zombie… things… just because I was listening to an acoustic version of Lisztomania by Phoenix and it made me really crave a scene where two lovers, who have come together over the travesty of losing the entire world, climb over this… hill… as duster planes dropping antivirus are flying in front of the setting sun, over the English countryside in like, Wiltshire or something… and all the infected fall, and it’s just… this amazing moment of peace, because they’ve had each other, but now they’ve got the world back… And I really wish I could blame the entire thing on like, drugs or something, to make me seem sort of like a bad ass, or something, but the truth is, I am really just that insane.)

And I sincerely tried to use music to write tonight (today?), really. Except Flight of the Conchords came on shuffle and ruined everything.

I have learned that it is impossible to do anything while listening to Flight of the Conchords besides listening because Bret and Jemaine are so amazing and brilliant that you have to pay attention to them.

So now I’m screwed! and I really don’t want to do any algebra, so I’m doomed! never to sleep again, which is bad! because I have a research paper! due on Monday, and I’m actually excited! about my topic, but I can’t write, remember?! so I’m just seriously in a 360° cocoon of SCREWED.

Anyway, have some delish:

Flight of the Conchords – Hurt Feelings

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Flight of the Conchords – It’s Business Time

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Flight of the Conchords – If You’re into it

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But seriously, how do they do it? Even when being COMPLETELY outlandish, somehow the songs are still good. ‘If You’re Into It’ is still one of my most favourite songs in the world.

(Lauren, it’s been two years since D.C., but if you ever find me, thank you so much for exposing me to the Conchords.)