My brain has decided that it will only sleep between the hours of 4AM and noon. And it doesn't matter how much my tired body complains, or how early I am required to get out of bed in the morning, my brain simply refuses to let sleep happen.
I think I've stayed up late working one too many nights and now my brain is just hardwired for the no sleeping thing.
Plus, Husband's snoring has been reeeeeally bad lately. You know how some people call snoring "sawing logs"? He's singlehandedly taking down a giant Redwood forest. And how am I supposed to sleep in the same bed as a huge mutant chainsaw? Especially when he's facing my side of the bed. Because then, not only is he loud, but he also BREATHES on me. I really can't handle it when people breathe on me.
The other night I was super exhausted but it was only midnight, so the plan was to read until I got tired. And I had a free self-published chick lit novel all cued up on my ipad, so that's what I read. I didn't have really high hopes for it, because, you know, it was free self-published chick lit, but the synopsis said it had ghosts in it and you know how I can never refuse ghosts.
IT WAS THE DUMBEST STORY EVER.
The main character was every stereotype rolled into one person. She was an independent, strong willed push over, who was self-rightesouly shallow and intelligently naive. Also, she was the optimal height, skinny, bronzed and amply chested. And of course she was above things like makeup, but deemed a local beauty.
Like most chick lit, she was on the verge of social flat line when suddenly she had to choose between two equally gorgeous and emotionally similar men. Except that one of these men was A GHOST. Which would have made an semi-interesting plot line, if the author had thought to develop the plot at all.
It went like this:
She moves into a cottage on the seaside. A ghost forms in front of her. He's shirtless. She goes, "Woah, you're a ghost." He says, "Yes, I hang out here a lot." They have a few awkward conversations that involve in no way how dumb it is that she's talking to a ghost about deeply personal topics that had no prelude whatsoever. One night the ghost realizes he can touch her. In a matter of half a sentence everyone jumps to the wild assumption that this means he coming back to life. She freaks out and runs away. The ghost disappears forever.
Her other love interest was a wealthy business tycoon that had broad shoulders, icy blue eyes and chiseled abs. Of course he had a undeniable reputation of being a horrific womanizer, which he denied constantly. He forces her on a date, then man handles her, then yells at her, then shoves her into the ocean after she tells him it's her biggest fear, then forces her to stay in his mansion. But she loves him anyway because he has a secret albino daughter, and once he bought her an expensive dress, and because his chiseled abs are just too hard to refuse. And then they get married. The end.
I read the whole book in one insomnia-liscious night. And it really wasn't worth it.
I wish I could just sleep.
Also, I want to write my paranormal romance mock-novel more than ever now.