I have this problem with sleep.

We get along really well during the day.  Sometimes we spend close to eight or nine hours together.  However… at night, it seems to be a different story.  I yawn and yawn, calling for my dear sleep to find me, but it never can.  I wade above my sheets and shimmer under the blanket, as I reach out for sleep grasp my hand, and comfort me into a deep slumber.  Always too late it finds me.

I only wish I had dear friends to join me on my insomniac adventures.  And I wish I didn’t have class in the morning.

I know… I know… I complain a lot about wanting adventure, about wanting to get out of here and GO.  I complain, but I don’t act.  I could easily walk out the front door, hop in my car, drive as far as my gas tank will allow me, then leather it from there on out.  But that would mean leaving so much behind.  Leaving behind friends, family, love, experiences, and memories.

I’ve been thinking, too.  There’s so much I want to do.  Some point during college I wanted to walk the Camino de Santiago.  Sometime soon I wanted to go on the Amazing Race.  After college I wanted to live in Seattle.  Then Manchester.  Then Boston.  Then Wurzburg.  I want to travel.  I’m running out of time though.  No way in hell I’ll find all the time to do that.   It’s sad.

Who wants to go to a Passion Pit concert with me?

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