He sees you when you're sleeping. . .

Can someone just drug me enough so that I can sleep for at least 72 hours so that I can finally feel caught up on my rest? Please, I can pay you in lumpy cookies! How about a knitted scarf? Somebody help me. Please!

I cannot seem to get a restful night. This is unusual for me as I boast often that I can sleep anywhere, anytime, under any circumstances. So, it seems that there has been a conspiracy to bring me down a notch or two by disrupting every single hour of my coveted sleep time.

I think that Cynical held a meeting with the brood and they have developed a clever, coniving and secretive plan to assure that I am awake at least once each hour. They are very industrious and I should be impressed, but I am not.

I think that Ike is the first plan of attack, taking the first shift by simply pinning me down so that I can in no way move my body to find comfort. Next Cooper takes over licking my hair and releasing that awful cat breath onto me. Then it's Cynical's turn. We have a king-size bed, but suddenly it's as if we are sleeping in a single bunkbed at overnight camp. And, between his snoring and need to steal my heat, I don't stand a chance.

So, it's official. I surrender. You guys win. You can have the bed. I will sleep in the car. I have a CD player, and I plan to buy a CD with whale sounds on it so that I can be bored into a deep sleep. Don't fret, it won't be cold. I plan to take your favorite down comforter with me and the super fluffy pillows too. Hey, maybe that means you won't be sleeping either.

Baby, it's cold outside. Honestly, it isn't that cold outside, but I cannot seem to get warm, so I made some hot Tension Tamer tea in hopes it would make me warm inside and out. Maybe it's this three-quarter sleeve sweater baring my cold wrists. I need those fingerless gloves on knitty.com.