I swear I cannot be held responsible for what I do anymore. My defense? I have not had a full night's sleep since...oh, let me think...1987. I kid you not - I refer to my whacked out state as 'LAH-T-H (Life After Harry-The-Helicopter)'. Now you may be thinking, "who the hell is Harry". Well, Harry's that unwelcome guest that only the sleep deprived have the bad fortune to have as resident in their non-existent z-land. My Harry, aka as 'the husband', takes off without fail as soon as his head hits his zzzz-pad and sticks to his flight plan with stubborn zeal that no amount of thumping, pushing, prodding or a wrench shoved between his blades will cause him to deviate. No sirree, Harry flies, er snores, while I listen to the continuous drone that does my head in until I can take it no longer and reluctantly rise from the warmth of my bed to do arb things like write this blog. And the cheek of it all is that right on schedule each morning, he wakes up and says, "I didn't snore last night love, so you probably slept well". In my mind I go: "do I kill him now or later?!" I've done my research - in the State vs Cohen 1956, the defendant got off on a murder charge based on the premise of temporary insanity. Okay, so I made that up and am just kidding around (then again, I'm sleep deprived, maybe I'm not).
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