The only thing worse than not being able to sleep is laying, wide awake, next to someone who can. And is. And has been for an hour. While I, on the other hand, am flip-snap-flip-snap-flip-snapping my phone open and shut and rolling back and forth on my side of the bed like some kind of autistic insomniac. Which, come to think of it, isn't really that far off the mark. Maybe, I'll crack open the window and pray for a late night visit from that trippy, radioactive Lunesta butterfly. He's like Santa, but for the prescription drug abuser set. My winged hero in dayglo green.
...Only, I'm at a complete loss in regards to what kind of treats one leaves out when trying to court an animated, phosphorescent, lepidoptra. Something tells me that cookies and milk aren't exactly the way to go.
With love and a butterfly net,
a.
ps.
Can you fucking believe I spelled phosphorescent right on the first try? I totally did.
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