I Love My Insomnia

No, really. I love it. I love my insomnia the way that George W. Bush loves pissing on the graves of dead soldiers, the way Mary Matalin loves lying, and the way Rudy Giuliani loves cheating on his wives. I love my insomnia the way the Rude Pundit loves talking dirty, the way Attaturk loves photoshopping, and the way Steve Gilliard loved calling "bullshit" on just about everything. I love my insomnia more than I love the ocean, more than I love the color blue, and more than I love a huge bowl of pasta amitriciana for Sunday dinner. I love my insomnia more than a glass of warm milk, more than melatonin, and even more than Ambien, which, by the time you discover you have insomnia, it is too fucking late to take. Do you ever see those little kids fast asleep in a stroller while subways screech, and/or teenagers shriek, and/or loudspeakers blare all around them? I would give anything to sleep like one of those miserable brats right now.