It’s nearly four in the morning. I’m awake. I’m lying in bed completely annoyed with how alert I am.
I twisted my ankle, napped on a pile of frozen peas, and woke up at midnight just numb enough to be worried. Naps are terrible. My sleep patterns are stretched out like a cotton sweater. Or shrunk like a cotton sweater. Please use whichever comparison you feel the most comfortable with given your laundering experience.
In case you’re worried: my ankle still hurts. The peas did not survive.