Hamlet Makes a Terrible Bedtime Story

Probably this isn’t want Shakespeare had in mind . . .

But . . .

To pee or not to pee.  That is the question. 

Every freaking night it’s the question, and I still haven’t mastered it.

You know what I’m talking about, don’t act like you don’t.  You do your nighttime routine, whatever it may be, and you get in bed.  You wallow into your little you-shaped indention in your mattress (your “Jennifer-hole,” as I like to refer to mine), and burrow under the covers like a molerat.  And then . . . you start thinking you kind-of-maybe-might-sorta-have-to pee.  And the debate begins.

On the one hand, it’s not an urgent type of thing.  You know you don’t HAVE to get up right now and handle things.  You know that even if you did, it would probably take forever to actually coax your pipelines into commencing operation.  PROBABLY it won’t be an issue until morning.

Or it will wake you up in an hour and become a lot more urgent real damn quick.  Maybe you should just get up and handle it, seemingly unimportant though it may be.  But jeez . . . it’s just starting to get warm and cozy.  That new down comforter is super comfy.  Just forget it.  Roll over and go to sleep, it’s not that big of a deal.  Just go to sleep.  Sleep, dammit.  Stop thinking that there is a slight chance you might have to kind of tinkle, and just sleep.

Youdon’thavetopeeyoudon’thavetopeeyoudon’thavetopee.  Just sleep already!

Except you CAN’T.  There’s no forgetting it, no ignoring it. 

And now, not only do you have to pee, and not only have you forfeited your hard-earned cozy spot and subjected yourself to cold tiles and cold porcelain, but you just wasted 30 minutes of your life arguing with yourself about it, when you could have just taken care of business when the idea first occurred to you.  You could have been sleeping this whole time, you fool. 

Sarcasmo