Meet my dear old friend, Mr I.N. Somnia:
Hello, old friend, what brings you to these parts?
Oh, you know, the usual.
I don’t recall sending you an invitation.
I know, I like to drop by unexpectedly.
Really. I hadn’t noticed.
You don’t sound thrilled to see me. I’m crushed.
Listen, I.N., there’s something we need to talk about.
Nothing good ever started with those words.
I know. Listen, we had some good times back in college. I needed you then. All those late night study sessions, my 21st birthday, the Senior spring fling, that time we put soap bubbles in the campus fountain. The frat parties, football parties, swim team parties, party team parties. You get the idea. I relied on you to make it through the night. We stuck together, you and I. Remember my first night in the dorms? That was fun, right?
#@*! Yeah, that was fun!
Right. Well, old buddy, times have changed.
No they haven’t.
Yes . . . they have.
La, la, la. I can’t hear you.
You see, now I have someplace to be in the morning. I have obligations, responsibilities. People count on me.
Stop it. That’s just crazy talk.
No, it’s true.
What are you trying to say?
I’m saying I need my sleep. I can’t go all night staring up at the ceiling then checking the clock. Up at the ceiling, over to the clock. Ceiling. Clock. Ceiling. Clock. It’s horrible for me.
I’m hearing you say you want to sleep.
Yes! I do! The WHOLE night! Not this business of checking the clock and figuring out that if I fall asleep right now I can still get 4 hours . . . okay, now 3 hours . . . 2 ½ isn’t bad . . . AAARRGH! It’s no way to live.
We could watch T.V.
No, old friend, we can’t.
Balance the checkbook in our heads?
Don’t hold back, what are you really trying to say?
I want you to leave.
Yes, I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be; clean and simple. No tears, no long goodbyes. Just go.
I . . . I . . . I’m sorry. I had no idea you felt this way. I’ll just gather my things and be out of your hair forever. No, no, I’ll show myself out. Obviously I’ve caused you enough pain already. I’ll be leaving now. Headed to the door. Here’s me leaving. Those aren't tears, there's just something in my eye.
See you for New Year’s?
Sure thing. See you then.