It’s past midnight, and here I am, eyes glued to the glow of my phone, scrolling through Twitter like it’s the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe. Spoiler alert: it’s not. Instead, I’m bombarded with cat videos, political rants, and that one guy live-tweeting his epic quest to find the perfect burrito. Fascinating, but sleep-inducing? Not so much.

I’ve tried everything. Counting sheep? Those fluffy traitors have hopped the fence and are now chilling with the neighbor’s goats. Pacing? My carpet’s starting to resemble a well-worn racetrack. The clock ticks relentlessly, mocking my desperation with each passing second. Tick, tick, tick.

Why is it that the harder you chase sleep, the faster it runs away? It’s like trying to catch a greased pig at a country fair. I need a fix, and I need it now. A midnight snack? Nope, that just leads to a fridge raid that would make a raccoon proud.

Twitter, you traitorous time-suck, I thought you’d help lull me into a dreamlike state. Instead, you’ve got me analyzing memes and pondering the philosophical depth of a thread on why pineapples on pizza are the devil’s work. Seriously, why is this so compelling at 1 a.m.?

Maybe the key is to stop trying so hard. Let go, embrace the chaos, and just lie there like a starfish, waiting for the Sandman to show up fashionably late to the party. Until then, I’ll keep scrolling, laughing at the absurdity of it all, and hoping that somewhere between a hot take and a trending hashtag, I’ll find that elusive ticket to Dreamland.