Dear body....

It's time you and me had a talk.

For starters, what the FRIKKING hell is up with waking up at 12.30am every morning and not allowing me to get back to sleep?  I know we've got good books to read right now but seriously.  I'd much prefer 8 hours thanks very much.

Didn't you get the memo?  Sleep deprivation is so 2008, maybe 2009 (okay, some part of 2010 too).  But now we have a 3.5 year old who sleeps through the night, this is just unfair.

And let's not even start on the panic attacks.  What the hell are you panicking about?  We're safe, we're fine, we're all good... we're lying in a safe comfy bed, counting sheep.   No need for the hysterics.

I do thank you for the kilo and a half you've shed since you decided to up and wigg out on me, that's kind of cool.  But it's hard to enjoy your skinny jeans while halucinating and nodding out during the day, and dark eye bags don't complement a whole lot of outfits.

On the balance of things, I'd rather a rest and my love handles back.  Ta very much.

So now we've been prescribed Stilnox.  All good, but Body... you didn't think this through, very much, did you?  It says on the packet "Do not consume with alcohol."   You stupid peanut.  No alcohol.   No.  Alcohol.   Slap yourself on the bloody forehead would you.

I'm going to give you one more chance, Body.  Pull your bloody socks up.

Let me get some sleep tonight.

Please?