There’s a Sucker Awake at Every Hour – Pip Helix (Davin’s Den)

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I never used to have insomnia.  As a matter of fact, people have often commented to me on how envious they are regarding how quickly I can fall asleep and stay asleep.  It was one blessing I could always count upon…until recently.
During this uncharacteristic spate of sleeplessness, I try to do something as boring as possible to perhaps lull myself back to sleep.  Reading doesn’t help, because I tend to get caught up in the story, and before I know it, the sun is coming up and the killer is still loose, but our hero is nipping at his heels – and I have to know if the killer is the one I think it is.  Work reading really doesn’t help either, because then I start to drift off into anxious thoughts about work, and that is mostly what’s keeping me up in the first place.  The internet is a wormhole that I can get sucked into for hours, and that is not going to help the problem either.  No, the answer is infomercials.
 Infommercials, those half-hour long programs that are really just the longest commercials ever, are just boring enough to fall asleep on, and yet interesting enough to keep your mind off of whatever is troubling you in the first place.  If you are worried about missing the big finish, this is something you need to discuss with your therapist. If you need distraction in the middle of the night, well, I feel you, fellow weekday warrior.
There is a danger to this insomnia “cure”, however…the nearness of the credit cards, and the degree to which one is soothed by retail therapy.  It doesn’t matter how far away I hide the cards though, because I have my credit card number memorized.  This is only part of the reason why I own a new vacuum cleaner.
The instant hair curling thingy, that takes your hair and sucks it right into the gizmo and pops out perfect little boingy curls with little damage?  Oooooh, that looked interesting.  The airbrush makeup system that covered those women’s blemishes, birthmarks and undereye circles like magic?  Oooooh, that looks good too.  Wait, wait, a vacuum that actually gets up pet hair, and doesn’t spew dust as it works? Could this be true?
Oh god, the serpent is out of the basket and I am bobbing my head to the tune of the piper, all glazed over and ready to spend.  It’s at that point that the little bit of reason left in my mesmerized brain usually kicks in, kicks me in the ass, and jogs me out of my reverie.  Only, the kick in the ass didn’t come in time for the vacuum – and I’m not sorry.
This stupid thing really did live up to its hype!  The first time trying it out, I sucked up the equivalent of several cats from the rugs in just half of the house.  I was amazed.  Disgusted, and amazed.  The fact that the little cigar catnip toy went flying up into the machine without a bit of hesitation was also pretty impressive, and made me realize that I’d better not hold the business end of this particular vacuum to close to an actual cat, or we might have some explaining to do at the vet’s office.
 
The trouble is that now that I have bought something that works just as they say it does, and I’m thrilled with the damn thing, that I am vulnerable to other insomnia purchasing binges.  Hip hop abs?  Sign me up.  I’ll stack them on top of my unopened elliptical machine.  Amazing new drink made out of cactus that will make me live forever?  Send me cases of it.  I can store it with all the Proactiv.  But as long as I steer clear of the Home Shopping Network, I think I have it under control. 
Have you seen my new bracelet?   

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