Friday night comes, its 6:30 pm and the only thing I am thinking about is sleep. Actually the only thing I ever think about is sleep. The siblings always make fun of my mom for her self designated nap before bed at 7 pm. But I get it; I truly understand what she is doing.

I sit on my bed and feel the stress of the week melt off of me onto my sheets, that I immediately wish I had washed the day before, so I could sleep in a heavenly place that is washed free of all the remaining remnants of the last 5 days.

 My sometimes friday night date with coconut bubble bath and Netflix TV reruns is just the beginning layers of the weekend to come, and I usually take twice as long thinking about the joy that comes from not having to arise at 6 am the next morning.

Ironically I wake up at 6 am anyway, not out of habit, but simply out of lack of ear plugs.

Even worse, as I lay in bed at 9pm, ready for slumber and dreams of fantasy boyfriends, I can't keep my self from searching the web aimlessly. Searching for something. Clothes, news, puppy videos, facebook, facebook again because I forgot that I was already on Facebook. Damn you Facebook, you truly are the beast.

My list of wants and needs for the following two days fills my mind instead of the desired silence, as I lay in my bed that I have checked under twice. For monsters first, then rouge spiders.

My body protests, twitching and throbbing in wacky places, yelling at me for all the crap I fed it and work I made it do.

After two hours of attempts at sheep counting, I remember that my prayers were not said, obviously keeping me from settling down. I begin my thanks and asks, and drift mindlessly mid prayer onto thoughts of my family, who as I ask to protect I worry about, miss, cry for, and long to be with.

As my conversation ends, I feel my body settle down, my mind turn its light out, drink its glass of water, and retreat into its own world. A world that is often more exciting than my own. So I stay there, for 12 long wonderful hours.