Sleeping is a nightmare of limericks

One day per month, ChicagoNow bloggers get a specific assignment to complete in an hour. Our assignment an hour ago was to write about sleep and its impact on your life. As many of my comrades in deprivation will appreciate, all I could come up with was limericks.

Sleeping is my nemesis
It never happens sui generis
Give me Ambien
As much as it’s gamblin’
And maybe I’ll actually rest.


I have to check all the doors
Windows, garage and much more
Will there be a fire? Was Smokey a liar?
Too much could go wrong to ignore.


It’s not something I’m really out about
I have all this autoimmune crap and miscellaneous rot-about
It interferes with my sleeping
Through exhaustion and weeping
One day I’ll feel fine we all doubt.


Good sleep is what I need most.
But of REM I never can boast
I toss and I turn
As if I never could learn
That tomorrow this means I’ll be toast.


Lots of times I have bad dreams.
My poor husband wakes to my screams.
Once a sleep-over friend of my son’s said, “We must save your mom!”
“Naw, that’s just how my mom blows off steam.”


The mirror asks in the morning
What are those bags under your eyes adorning?
They’re not Kate Spade
They’re more Ruben Kinkaid
Not that you’ll listen to warning.


What I really hate are naps
Unlike most nappers, I wake feeling like crap
It’s like half a coma and not even coffee and cola
Will restore me or give me a zap.


I haven’t slept in fifteen years.
Think I’m kidding? Look at my tears.
If there were anyone crankier, he’d be quite a wanker
I don’t blame you for fleeing in fear.


You’ll sleep when you’re dead they all say.
But I’m already feeling that way.
Why wait for the grave, I need to be saved.
I want to enjoy now today.


Zzzzzzz for an hour
Than I’m awake as if it’s already tomorra.
Fuck this, I sigh, as I kiss sleep good-bye
Insomnia is such a schnorra.


Is anyone awake at 2 a.m. Central Time?
Would you like to meet me online?
I’ll chat with a creep – my husband’s asleep.
Just don’t wake me, he says, and you’re fine.


Sleep is really a nightmare.
Some folks drift right off and it’s not fair.
Could I ever do it? Dammit and screw it.
Can’t they sense my lethal death glare?






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