I’m Not The Real Ron. Lavalette
No; the real Ron. Lavalette goes to bed at a reasonable hour, watches TV until he dozes off twice, then puts on his favorite Pandora lullaby channel and successfully completes his quest for a minimum of six-to-eight hours of unbroken, restful, healthy sleep.
No, wait; that’s not true. That never happens. Most nights, what really happens is that the real Ron. Lavalette always stays up more-than-a-little too late, hoping that exhaustion will drive him to sleep quickly (which never happens) and then he watches TV until he can no longer count the incidences of pre-sleep dozing. Then he puts on his favorite Pandora lullaby channel and hopes it coaxes him into at least a reasonable excuse for a few scant hours of uneasy, sketchy napping.
No, not tonight though. Tonight the real Ron. Lavalette is nowhere near his bedroom. Instead, he sits sullenly at his insomniac keyboard hoping for inspiration and instructs me, his sleep-deprived alter-ego, to sit close by and nudge him if it looks like he might drift off.
I gotta find me somebody else to be.
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