Sleep? What's That?

In an irony of ironies, I returned to a normal 40 hr/week work schedule last week, and somehow manage to get less sleep than when I was doing crazy shiftwork. The only guess I've got is that, to my body, my abnormal schedule became normal, and vice versa. All I know is is that my body is more confused than I was the first time I got a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book and tried to read it cover-to-cover. It has no idea what the hell is going on.

And so I continue to wake up at 4am. The only winner in this scenario is my relieved bladder.

Seriously, though, what happened? I used to be amazing at sleep. Ask anybody who knew me in high school or my early college days. In high school, my finest sleeping moment was a Rip Van Winklean-feat of sleep where I slept for 17 hours straight. All that was missing was the amazing beard. Now sleep avoids me like that large penguin avoids Adam Sandler in Billy Madison.

Remember in one of the crappy Superman sequels (I'm actually proud that I can't remember which one) when Superman loses all of his superpowers and gets the crap kicked out of him at that diner?** That's what I feel like.

Oh well. Nothing some Tylenol PM can't fix. Hopefully.

**Readers, please refrain from any and all Christopher Reeves jokes.