I have a confession. I have an embarrassing affliction.
One that happens in the bedroom. Now get your mind out of the gutter. My sleep is bonkers. I can count on one hand the number of nights since I was a kid that I slept seven hours in a row. I sleep walk, sleep talk and even sleep shop. Even my doctor gave up on me. When he diagnosed me with chronic sleepus interruptus, I zombied my way home Continue reading “To Dream, Perchance . . . of Placebo Sleep?”