Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I tell myself stories. And sometimes, when I’m feeling completely uncreative, I’ll retell books or movies.
I come by this coping mechanism honestly, as I have a long history of hanging out in bed, awake. This might have something to do with me being a night owl and, well, like normal humans, my parents wanted their daughter to go to bed before midnight. So, I’d lie there and make up complex games, or my own plot twists for “General Hospital.”
Anyway, I woke up last night in a dachshund sandwich. I couldn’t move, lest I disturb the delicate ecosystem of two sleeping doxies, a sleeping husband, and a labradoodle snoring on the floor. So, story time it was.
How long has it been since you’ve seen “Gone With the Wind?” For me, it’s been approximately 900 years. Obviously. The bedtime story I told myself last night went like this:
OK, so there’s this little princess named Scarlett, and she’s all, “la-dee-da.” And she’s in love with this guy named Ashley, even though he’s a ginger and has no soul. And Ashley decides to marry his freakin’ cousin instead of Scarlett. So, Scarlett’s all, “Fuck Ashley and his goody-two-shoes ho. I’m gonna marry this other dude.” And then the war starts, and there’s news of a horrible battle, and Scarlett’s like, “OMG, is Ashley OK?” And the people are all, “Yes, ma’am, but your no-name husband is dead.” And then she’s all, “I’m so sick of wearing black. Mourning is bullshit!” But then she starts to really like this Rhett guy, and there is just sexual tension all around them. But the war’s gone on, and Scarlett’s all hungry and poor, and she has to look after Ashley’s wife, who is all knocked up and in labor in the back of a wagon while Atlanta is burning. And then she dies or something. But Scarlett’s all, “Fuck being poor. Rhett, let’s get married.” And so they do. And they have a kid. And then they watch the kid break her neck and die and it’s horrible. And then Rhett is all, “Eff off, hooker” and he leaves. And then Scarlett’s all, “Well, I’ll figure out what I’m gonna do tomorrow.” And that’s the end of the movie.
I may be glossing over some of the nuances.
How do you entertain yourself when you can’t sleep?
I liked yours better.
I have been known to relive every freaking stupid conversation I have ever had.
Then to stop that I will think about a book or series I just watched.
I just wasted most of January watching Dexter.
Wtf was up with that last season.
You and I need to rewrite that one.
Other nights I make pots.
I find putting mental teapots together will send me right to sleep.
I thought I was the only person who told myself stories (not new ones–ones I plagiarized from real authors) in order to distract myself from other, much worse, ruminations.
I usually can't remember what I did yesterday, but know all the lyrics to waaaaaay too many Broadway musicals or movies of a certain era — dialogue too. So I silently sing all the songs for the show. And, by the way, I "sound" simply marvelous, hitting every single high note.
I read or pray, but your trick sounds pretty entertaining!
This is HILARIOUS!!! I love your synopsis so much; it should be on IMDB. I watch movies (of my own directing) in my head, with me as the star. Like daydreaming with my eyes closed.
You crack me up.
There are several ways to entertain oneself when unable to sleep. 😉
Mind racing? Write stuff down.
Usually (if the relaxation/meditation CD isn't cutting it) I get up, have a cup of chamomile tea, a spoonful of peanut butter or a banana, and heat up a rice bag (heating pad) in the microwave.
Obviously, the cat does not sleep on my bed.