Sex

Sometimes if I havent ben laid for a couple of weeks, which sadly was more often than Id like until relatively recently and due usually to being a disgusting human mess or working crazy hours or because I take my responsibility to keeping the bar staff in Leamington busy and in jobs as often as possible, I find it hard to sleep. I try everything; sleeping pills, Xanax, tequila, rubbing it till its sore, but when my body is unhappy with me it loves to make me lie awake for endless yellow-black hours thinkin about what I (havent) done. Not just about sex of course, about my life, my job, taxes, cancer, my family, my continually broken sports cars. The list goes on. Actually, it doesnt, thats pretty much it. And right at the top is sex. That 'once every six seconds' is ludicrously underestimating the average male brain I feel. For me, insomnia is not particularly conducive to free-roaming thought. Its more like being in a mental washing machine, you know? However, no matter how often Ive tossed and tossed and tossed and turned, there is one thing that makes me smile.
If I ever go into hospital because I snapped it off while not being able to sleep, and people buy me flowers and come and tell me jokes and my loved ones gather round me in a warm circle of love and support andeverything, the only thing that'd really cheer me up is the certain knowledge that someone else is worse off than me.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/7039478.stm