Sleep is just a state of mind

Ever have those nights where you lay in bed for an hour, eyes closed, wrapped up in your blanket and instead of sleep you're thinking crazy thoughts? Thoughts about zombies, petticoats, hotel rooms, Road trips, candy, Cheesecake and more zombies?

This is why my brain is like. I lay down and my train of thought makes no sense. None. Not to me, not to anyone else.

"Hmm, I wonder if I'd be smited if I walked into a church, dropped trou and yelled 'Covet this, bitches!' it seems like something one would be smited for. is smited a word? it has to be, what would the past tense of smite be? I smite, he smites, she smited. Right? Of course I'm right, it's grammar. But then again the to's still confuse me. and apostrophes. I wonder how you say apostrophe in German. I wonder if it's as cool of a word as exclamation point is."

Oh, but this is just the beginning of the insanity that happens in my head. I made a list, of things to do in England. While trying to sleep. I will now share.

1.) Buy lots and lots of petticoats and wander around that area of really old buildings in the city pretending I'm in a historical romance novel. (Note to self: Try to swoon at least once.)
2.) Convince the English that is the THHHHHHAMES because TH makes a THHHHH sound.
3.) In regards to number one, get really drunk and go to a public place and slap a man while insisting he "compromised me" and then run away. Might be difficult in petticoats. Will have to practice.

There was more, but I can't remember it now. Because I'm insane. That's pretty much the basics of the list though, crazy shit that makes little to no sense. Love it. But the rambling of the brain, it needs to stop. I'll be having a lovely thought about cheesecake or some crazy meal I tried cooking and BAM APARTMENT ON FIRE.

WTF. I WAS BOILING WATER. HOW THE HELL ARE YOU ON FIRE, WATER?!

Seriously guys, the water was on fire. Talk about a mind fuck.

"Shit, shit, waters on fire. Water is on fire. OPEN.YOUR.EYES. WOMAN. Oh. Ok. I'm awake. I'm completely awake. In america, there is no water on fire. Right? Right. Wtf, cat, shut up. Oh thats not the cat, thats my stomach. Mmm stomach. Mmm stomach? Oh Ok, now we're digesting ourselves, thats cool. Thanks for the memo nervous system, could have warned me a bit earlier that I was hungry. Like before I laid down to sleep. Although I'm failing. You know what else I'll fail at? Probably cleaning out my car, but if my car was chitty chitty bang bang I could just fly that sucker above the dump, twist it sideways and let all the crap in it fall to the ground. Now that would be pretty fucking sweet. I wonder if an empty diet coke can could kill someone if dropped from high enough. I wonder where the city dump is in relation to this house. Hmm. "

Now I know this is all nerves. I'm stressed, I'm excited, I'm nervous. I can't wait, I'm thrilled, I'm terrified. etc etc. But seriously, do I have to be fucking exhausted to sleep at night? Because this whole "sleeping when I'm on the verge of death" thing isn't cutting it. I'm tired, I need sleep. But apparently my brain would rather have me mentally wander around a (No lie) department store in my mind yelling at the Make up counter lady because I can't return the makeup I bought because I lost my debit card.

Yeah, I'm pretty fucked up. Oh and then I laid there thinking about mac n' cheese for a while pondering the perfect bachemel sauce. And what kind of cheese would make the perfect grilled cheese. And then cheetos, and how the flamin' hot ones are disgusting. And then I laid there going over my nicknames and finally after I started thinking about smurfs and what would happen if a group of smurfs came upon a midget, I got up and declared myself a failure at sleep.

So I'm awake. At 6:30 am because I, yet again, can not shut my fucking brain up. And this, people, is why I drink until I'm too drunk to have a conscious thought. Because if I didn't, I'd never get any fucking sleep.

Ps. Kidding about the drinking thing.
pps. Where does one pick up petticoats?
ppps. ZOMBIES COVERED IN FLAMING WATER IS A HORRIFYING THOUGHT. K?

Sigh.

I've been in a funk. There are things for me to do, I'm aware of this. I talk about what I need to get done often. Laundry, packing, cleaning my mother's garage.. all of them need to get done. But whats stopping me? My depression. I'm in a funk I can't get out of, I know whats causing it and I wish I could just shake it off, get over it and move the fuck on.

What Funk you ask? Emily. How do I fix it? I can't. Do I need to move on? Yes. can I ? I don't know.
So many things upset me. I slip into my accent and crack a joke and a feeling of sadness comes over me. A song plays and I tear up. Its like someone died, but much worse this time. (SORRY GRANDMA.)

She was supposed to come with me for the first week or so and help me settle in, explore and adventure all throughout London with me, and now.. Its me and my fanny pack all alone.
Me alone packing my things. No one to give the stuff I don't want too, no one to stand there going "Do you really need that?" When I protest and pack something I really don't need.

No one to drive with at 2am. No one to sing with.. My passenger seat is covered in garbage and crap because theres no one to sit there. I'm alone. Its bad enough I miss john, but now Im Friendless and I just.. I don't know.

I'm sorry, I needed to get it off my chest. Im sure you're all sick of my moody bouts of whininess but.. Yeah. I don't eat right, I stopped drinking, except for tonight. I sleep all day, get up at night and pick fights with people because Im in such a shitty mood. I don't know how to fix this. My mood is at an all time low and even rum isn't picking it up. Dancing in my car, chair, Room isn't helping. Laughter works for a bit but after an hour or so I'm back to where I was before.

I hate that my other friends are fixing this, its not their faults, its something that is wrong with me. Something I need to figure out and find a fix for, not them. And as much as I socialize and joke and laugh.. It always feels like something is missing.

That something is you, Em.