Hi All –
I have attached an audio file to this e-mail. Hopefully you will find it
helpful. I have written a story
for you as follows:
It’s my own fault, really. My insomnia last night, that is. Sure enough, I had gone to bed with wet hair, even though I
knew better. My evening shower had
been delayed, you see, because my wife needed me to run an errand for her and,
being the chivalrous husband that I am, I acceded to her wish and told her that
I was at her disposal. Had I
refused, of course, she might have kicked me to the curb and I didn’t like
spending time in the doghouse. Now
you may not know this, but I happen to be an aficionado of antique tintypes and
Kathleen had mentioned that there was a collection on display at the
museum. She promised to procure
two tickets for us but there was a catch to this offer. (Isn’t there always?) Anyway, the catch was that I needed to
run an errand for her. She had a
big project due the next morning and had forgotten to buy something for
it. So here in the eleventh hour,
she asked me to go out and make the purchase which I did (becoming her knight
in shining armor). And so the
upshot of all this was that there I was with my wet hair, trying to catch some
z’s.
I mean, really,
how hard is it to go to sleep? It
should be duck soup, a piece of cake.
Nothing to it! But no, I
lay there tossing and turning, trying to pin down the reason for my
restlessness. I had followed
Annie’s advice, except for eating before going to bed. Well, I was hungry! I had this insatiable appetite that
evening so wolfed down everything in sight. The result was that I was one happy camper! You would have
thought I had a hollow leg! I
haven’t eaten that much since I was a teenager and my mother referred to me
often as a bottomless pit. So I
admit that I did eat before going to bed but you can’t begrudge a starving man
a crust of bread, can you? You may
wish to argue with me about this, telling me that I should mend my ways if I
want to sleep at night but must we haggle over every little infraction of
Annie’s advice?
As I mentioned, I had tried other techniques for getting a
good night’s rest. I had even
tried reading a book before retiring to act as a soporific but the book I
chose, “Grisly Tales of Horror, Luridly Illustrated”, induced me to cower under
the covers with the lights on.
I thought there was a slim chance that I might listen to some soothing
music and be lulled to sleep. My
radio was at hand so I turned it on but was met with an incessant cacophony of noise reminiscent
of cats being tortured. Some hard
rock or metal band, no doubt. I changed channels and found an opera where
somebody was singing in incomprehensible Italian about why plumbers charge so
much. Mercifully, it was almost at
an end because the fat lady was singing (well she SOUNDED fat!) and then she
quit. Maybe she had to go see a
man about a horse. More likely,
she was carried off by a flock of deaf birds of prey who wouldn’t be bothered
by her singing.
Finally, I gave up on sleep and came out here to write this
email to you all.
Take care,
Kevin
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