Dear Santa,

What I really, really want for Christmas is a thick, heavy shade for my bedroom window. You see, our neighbor across the way has a super-sensitive motion sensor on his 6,000,000 watt floodlight. So anytime the stupid cats from next door go carousing through the neighborhood, a very bright light shines right into my eyes every 10 or 15 minutes. This is especially not fun when you're battling insomnia. And no, I can't just turn over because then I'm face-to-face with the boyfriend and his Dorito Breath of Doom.\
I've been very good this year so if you could bring that for me I would really appreciate it. And if it's not too much trouble a pony would be nice, too.\
Sincerely,\
Kelly Delaney\
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…\
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So, yeah, I've been up since about 5:45. I thought that I was going to get a really great night of sleep since I passed out around 12. Two things foiled that. For the past couple of months I've been having this problem with the boyfriend: we watch TV for a little bit before going to sleep. I pass out but he stays up to watch more. Inevitably, a few minutes to an hour later I wake up to find the TV still blaring and the boyfriend dreaming away. I nudge him and say, “Turn off the TV.” He replies, “Mmmrph?” And I repeat, “Turn off the TV.” He groans like this is the most absurd request that he's ever heard and starts fumbling with the remote. Usually I have to grab it off of him and turn it off myself since he seems unable to execute simple tasks when shaken from REM sleep. More often than not, he has no memory of this in the morning. So when I suggest that he just go to sleep when I go to sleep he looks at me like I'm crazy. Obviously, this happened last night. I was not happy when I woke up to hear some British people fighting because the wife had been sleeping with a “colored” American man in their barn while the husband was off fighting WWII. I can only wonder why he was watching that.\
The other thing was that the baby started crying around 5:45. It took me a minute to process this because I was having a dream that his hands were covered in syrup and he was pissed about it. By the time I fumbled around and found my glasses and got to the hallway he was silent again. I found myself staring at my mother who was getting up for work. She waved at me and told me to go back to bed. So now I'm wondering if I was having some kind of lucid dream and he wasn't crying at all. Who knows.\
Anyway, back in bed I did my usual routine: start worrying about everything in life even though there's nothing I can really do about it at 5 a.m.\
I'm off to pour myself some coffee. It's a pretty day today. Too bad I'm going to be exhausted throughout it.

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