Dearest Sleeping Pills,

The past few nights of my sleeping [plan of procedure for aforementioned objective] have been most unsatisfactorily rearranged. My days are now everyone else’s nights, and the dawn draws a pillow over my head to block it out as I blearily pray that the coming morning is merely a bad dream and not [the state or quality of being real]. This is unacceptable.

Why? Because I must often be at work in the morning hours, and be nice and happy and cheerful and helpful, all of which I find hard to [bring to any form of completion] before noon (at the least). Simply put, I am not a [first part or period of the day] person. Being unable to fall asleep until three or four in the morning makes this statement that much more potent.

Be that as it may, when I discovered you the afternoon of our ‘incident’, as I shall call it, I was rather [eased and alleviated]. Nay, ecstatic even! Finally, a good night’s sleep and my biological clock reset under your influence! I should [express my gratitude] very much!

But yet another troubling [product of mental activity] beset me as I made to send you down my gullet. As a child, my mother always warned me about you and your kind. That some of you could be [causing or tending to cause death]. Some could do more damage than good, and to be cautionary. (However, my mother has said this about many things over the [Gregorian calendar period of 365 (and this time, 366) days], and I have found that she can be wrong. Not very much, but every long once in a while, she is wrong.)

Besides, I am an adult! I know what I am doing, [courting triflingly and acting amorously without any intentions] with you, oh sweet intoxication! I remember our fling from back in my high school days, and I have not forgotten the wonderful nights we spent together, wrapped in your warm embrace!

Still, an ingrained pathological [distressing emotion aroused by my feelings of impending doom] of the unknown made me double check your records before calling it a night and taking you back to my room, azitwur*.

Having found that I was not going to be [using or engaging] vehicles or becoming [with child] in the next ten hours, and making sure that your seal of protection was still [as good as necessary for the requirements of your purpose], I finally took you in and subsequently laid down to sleep.

These aren't the sleeping meds I have, nor do I necessarily endorse these or any sleeping medication.

I do not remember falling asleep; I only remember noting the time (10:00pm) and becoming completely sure that I would wake up with [a full and abundant supply] of time to get ready for my day at work (which would begin at 1:30pm precisely). Secure in that knowledge, and with you working your magic, I slept the night away peacefully.

I also slept most of the day away peacefully. Normally I wouldn’t mind, except for the fact that I was supposed to be at work at 1:30, and you kept me in [my piece of furniture reserved for (mostly) slumber] until 2:30! You’re not supposed to have that kind of stamina! I'm not supposed to have that kind of stamina! I was in bed, unconscious of the world (and, as far as the world was concerned, dead to it), for SIXTEEN. HOURS. That’s 57,600 seconds. That’s A LOT.

…When I said I wanted you to keep me happily satisfied in bed, this is not what I had in mind.

I don’t know how else to say this, my dear, but after the other night, I don’t have a [right, power, or opportunity to choose]. You’re not good for me. You pressure me into making bad decisions, and you leave me feeling empty and weird the next day.

It’s over between us. I’m [feeling regretful and sympathetic]. I’m taking out the trash, with you in it. Don’t call me. Don’t come back. I don’t want you in my [condition that distinguishes growing organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms] anymore. Not after this.

With many regards, affectations, and enthusiasm,

~Jennie

*(TM) Kashar