I'm Always Missing Out

When I was little, I never wanted to go to bed because I was afraid that I would miss out on something really exciting or important. This was especially the case when my parents would have parties or entertain guests. Knowing that other people were awake in my house while I was supposed to be asleep made me certain that something awesome was going to happen because I knew the most awesome stuff happened after the kids went to bed (R rated movies, card games, dancing, singing). Most of the time I would lie awake, imagining conversations and all the fun things that must be going on as I obeyed a bedtime, and it usually went something like this:

Adult 1: Which kid do you like the most?
Adult 2: Well, which one would you sell to the gypsies if you had to?
Adult 3: We should go hang out at the secret princess castle.
Adult 4: I heard the princess castle has a water slide.
Adult 1: I heard it has a giant bowl of candy that you can swim in!
Adult 2: Well, what are we waiting for? The kids are in bed!
Adult 3: Yeah! Let’s sell all of the kids to the gypsies go to the secret princess castle!

As a teenager, my curfew was a constant topic of debate. Eventually, I started to hear the phrase, “nothing good happens at that hour,” which infuriated me, because of course good things happened at that hour! My parents just didn't understand that my popularity was totally contingent on the things happening at that hour which I was missing out on because of a ridiculously early curfew, ugh!

In college, I watched the roles switch a little when my friend’s parents would come visit for a weekend. On more than one occasion, I helped a friend coax their drunk parent out of a bar and back to their hotel room, where the parent would then say something along the lines of “I don’t wanna go to bed—let’s go to the next party!” My friend and I would have to pretend that we were calling it a night so that the parent wouldn’t feel like they were missing out.

Now that I don’t have a bedtime, a curfew, or a parent reliving the glory days to babysit, I lie awake thinking about all the things I need to do in order to not miss out on anything, which usually goes like this:

Me: Maybe I should just get up and make a list or something.
Voices In My Head: No, you’ll be worthless tomorrow if you don’t get any sleep.
Me: It’s not like I have a lot going on tomorrow anyway.
Voices: Just try to close your eyes and see if you fall asleep.
Me: But my eyes won’t close.
Voices: Try harder.
Me: I think I am going to get up and write.
Voices: Nothing you write at this hour will be any good.
Me: Fine, then I am going to read.
Voices: But then you’ll just be reading about all of the stuff you’re missing out on because you're sleeping.
Me: Well, what am I supposed to do?
Voices: Keep searching for the cool side of your pillow...

I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never stop feeling like I’m missing out on something, which might mean that I’m never content with the immediate, and also that I don't get enough sleep. But really, what's so great about contentment and good sleeping habits anyway? I’d rather be plagued with exhaustion and the notion that I’m missing out, because maybe one day it will lead me to that secret princess castle with the water slide and bowl of candy you can swim in.