(Steps up to the mic, adjusts the stand, looks around the room)
How many people here are good sleepers? Just, out of the gate, who’s got it figured out?
(Nods sarcastically)
Right. Liars. All of you. Sleep is the one thing every human being is required to do, and none of us know how to do it. When you’re a kid, sleep is a superpower. You just fall asleep inside a half-built pillow fort with a juice box stuck to your face, and you wake up ready to fight a bear.
Now? Sleep is an appointment. And I am terrible at keeping it.
I get into bed at a reasonable hour. I do the routine. I brush my teeth, I wash my face, I set my phone down on the nightstand, and I close my eyes. And that is the exact moment my brain decides it’s time to solve crimes.
(Squints, mimicking intense thought)
“Hey. Hey, you awake? Good. I was just thinking about that thing you said to a cashier in 2012. You said ‘You too’ when she told you to enjoy your movie. Let’s replay that for the next forty-five minutes. In Dolby.”
My brain at 3 AM is not a relaxed organ. It’s a panicking intern running through the halls of my skull with a clipboard. It’s bringing me concerns that do not matter. “Are we sure we locked the back door? What if the house settles and it sounds like a burglar? What’s the plan if a burglar gets in? Do we fight? Do we hide? What if the burglar is just really lonely and wants to play Monopoly? I don’t think we have enough snacks for a board game burglar, man. We gotta get up and check the pantry.”
(Pauses, takes a breath)
And people give you the worst advice for this. You tell someone you can’t sleep, and they hit you with the wellness tips. “Have you tried turning off your screens an hour before bed?”
Oh, is that it? I just have to turn off the only light in my life? I just have to sit in the dark, staring at the wall like a Victorian ghost, waiting for the sandman to arrive? I did that. I turned off my phone. I stared at the ceiling. You know what happened? My brain got bored. And a bored brain is a dangerous brain. It started making up scenarios. I spent an hour mentally arguing with a coworker who wasn't even in the state. I won the argument, by the way. But then I was too pumped up to sleep. I was too busy celebrating my imaginary victory.
Then they tell you, “Read a book before bed.” I tried that. But I have a problem. If the book is boring, I just lay there annoyed that I’m reading a boring book. If the book is good? The sun’s coming up. I’m on chapter forty, my eyes are bleeding, and I’m like, “Just one more chapter! I gotta find out if the butler did it!”
(Paces slightly)
The worst is the white noise machine. I bought one of those machines to help me relax. You hit the button and it’s got all these different nature settings. “Rain.” Okay, that’s nice. “Ocean waves.” Sure. But then you get to the weird ones. “Airplane cabin.” Who is falling asleep to the ambient hum of a Boeing 737? That’s not relaxing, that’s just knowing you’re six hours into a flight next to a guy named Gary who won’t stop talking about his timeshare.
And my personal nemesis: “Melatonin.” That stuff is a scam. You take 5 milligrams? Nothing. You take 10? Nothing. You take 15? Suddenly you’re not asleep, but you’re not awake either. You’re just... paralyzed, watching the shadows of tree branches on your ceiling morph into the faces of former presidents. Is that James K. Polk? I don't know, I’m too busy trying to remember if I paid my water bill.
(Sighs, grips the mic)
I don’t want tips anymore. I don’t want gummies. I don’t want sound machines. I just want a switch. Like a light switch on the back of my neck. Flick it down, I’m out. Flick it up, I’m back. No thinking, no board game burglars, no imaginary arguments. Just the off switch.
Until then, if you need me at 3 AM, I’ll be awake. Staring at the ceiling. Trying to figure out if I own a monopoly board.
(Points to the crowd)
You guys have been great! Thank you!
