You could NOT make this up. This is just happening. John Grisham wrote lawyer novels because that’s what he knew. Jodi Picoult writes stuff about the human condition, which is what she remains in touch with. I’m in touch with a blinking pole.
If I knew for sure these windows would break, this damn thing would be four floors down on the pavement, shattered. There are beeps for every single thing. Blood pressure, heart, meds, batteries…just when you have finally found it, the ever elusive dreary lull of sleep where your dreams are kinda funky, BEEEEEEEEEP. Ashton can sleep though a World War at this point. I’m treading on sleeping through a Civil.
I hear it when I am not even here. The nurses hear it at home, too. I am giving up.
I am quitting. I am quitting sleep. And I will write about how crazy I am becoming because that is what I know. Like John Grisham.
And maybe during one of my funky dreams I will cure CANCER or cure beeping.