I'll sleep when I'm dead

I can't sleep a wink tonight. I was going to try and catch forty winks but I'd settle for one. The phrase "to catch forty winks" means to take a short nap or simply get some sleep. A person that didn't sleep a wink is someone who got almost no sleep at all, and to catch 40 winks is to catch a very brief but refreshing nap. The number 40 has a wide range of citations in the Bible and may have some application to this expression. The rains (in Noah's day) fell for 40 days and nights (Genesis 7:4).Israel ate Manna for 40 years (Exodus 16:35). Moses was with God in the mount, 40 days and nights (Exodus 24:18). Moses was again with God 40 days and 40 nights (Exodus 34:28). Moses led Israel from Egypt at age 80 (2 times 40), and after 40 years in the wilderness, died at 120 (3 times 40; Deuteronomy 34:7). The spies searched the land of Canaan for 40 days (Numbers 13:25). Therefore, God made Israel wander for 40 years (Numbers 14:33-34). 40 stripes was the maximum whipping penalty (Deuteronomy 25:3). God allowed the land to rest for 40 years (Judges 3:11). Solomon reigned same length as his father; 40 years (1 Kings 11:42). Elijah had one meal that gave him strength 40 days (1 Kings 19:8). Jesus fasted 40 days and nights (Matthew 4:2). Jesus was tempted 40 days (Luke 4:2, Mark 1:13). Jesus remained on earth 40 days after resurrection (Acts 1:3). Right now you're thinking motherfucker! how's he know all this? I don't. I looked it up. Like I said, I can't sleep. Maybe just a cat nap would help. We use this phrase today to refer to a short nap, the idea coming from the fact that cats appear to sleep most of the day, but generally not for long periods of time. The phrase actually originates from thieves' cant, and referred to a practice of feigning sleep to allay suspicion. The practice was generally done on stagecoaches: the thief would pretend to fall asleep, which would cause the target to feel it was safe to do so as well. Once the target was actually asleep, the thief would remove whatever items of value he desired from the target and then get off the coach at the next stop. By the time the target awoke to find he had been robbed, the thief was generally long gone. The practice got its name from the action of cats (I like cats), which occasionally pretend sleep to lure out prey. At least that guy got some rest. I'll just try to sleep tight. Before the days of mattresses, beds were square frames elevated from the ground, with ropes tied across in a sort of weave. Anyway, in order to sleep well, the "mattress" couldn't sag, so the bed had to be "tight". I won't get in to not letting the bed bugs bite. That would be more appropriate if I was gong to hit the sack. Before the "invention" of the modern bed, mattresses where sacks stuffed with hay, therefore you had to "hit the sack" to make sure you had no bugs or other critters trying to make a home in your bed. I suppose you could hit the hay also. Maybe then I could sleep like a log. I would like to sleep like a baby, but if you consider that babies usually wake up crying in the middle of the night I would prefer to sleep like a log. At least the log won't cry. But let's just keep that between you, me and the bedpost. I suppose I could try counting sheep. A group of sheep is called a flock. I need to count a lot of sheep. A large group of sheep is called a mob. Maybe I could count a mob. That would be a riot.

I still can't sleep

Can I take your order?

I have lost all sympathy for anyone who orders fast food. Not the fact that it can be unhealthy or that sort of thing. Its the lack of structure in the format. We set ourselves up for the torture which is about to ensue us. Some are good, but on a recent trip to one place I noticed several things askew that set a fast food restaurant apart from any other place in the known universe. First, its midday and time for lunch. Like most people I am on a half hour lunch break. Since there were 37 cars in line at the drive-thru I decide to order inside. Big mistake. Although I see no less than four cash registers, there is only one girl barely seventeen working there. Mind you, there are 264 of us standing in line. You'd think they would open another register. Nope. But, much to my chagrin, I count 11 people walking back and forth behind the counter. Now, there is one person working the drive-thru, two people filling orders, and four people making food. By my count, there could be three more people to open the other registers. Nope. Just keep everyone here waiting. Well, ok, the line is moving quickly. In front of me is a man of about 117 years old. As he approaches the register, he looks up at the menu to decide what he wants to order. Motherfucker! There were 262 people in front of you and you are deciding now! To make matters worse, he looks at the menu on the left to make his decision. Nothing there seems to peak his interest. So he decides to look at the menu on the right. Have you ever seen anyone do this? Like there are two different menus! ASSHOLE! ITS THE SAME MENU ON BOTH SIDES! After thinking it over for what seems like 125 years, he places his order.

"I'll have a cheeseburger with no pickles and no onions and a coffee please."

Ah, the old person lunch. A hot sandwich and a hot cup of coffee. I'm told it was much cooler back in the 30s so I suppose he needs to warm up (anyone, anyone). So he pays and steps to the side. Finally, my turn. Just then one of the available three opens the register next to me. You know, because there is one person left in line behind me and we can't make her wait. They bring the food for the old man man as I begin to place my order.

Me: "I'd like..."

Him: "Excuse me, this isn't what I ordered."

Girl: "I'm sorry sir, what did you order?" (really, you don't remember)

Him: "I wanted a cheeseburger."

Her: "That is a cheeseburger sir." (yeah, motherfucker, now take your cheeseburger and go!)

Him: "No, I asked for no pickles and no onions. This has pickles on it." (Take the pickles off, you'll live and if you die, I can finally get my food)

Her: "I'm sorry sir, I'll have another one made for you." (finally, my turn again)

Me: "I'd like a..."

Him: "Excuse me, miss, did I order a pie? I wanted a pie." (MOTHERFUCKER!)

Her: "I can get one for you sir after I take this gentleman's order." (good girl)

Me: (rapidly) "I'd like a number four and a coke to go." (take that old man)

Her: "I'm sorry, it's going to be a five to seven minute wait on the chicken." (of course it is)

So, the line is gone. Old man sonofabitch has his old man lunch. And, after five to seven minutes, I get my food. I take my food to my car so I can eat it on the ride back to work wondering if the drive-thru line would have been any better. It surely couldn't have been any worse. Outside, there is a guy hosing down the pavement. Another guy is bringing trash to a dumpster. And a girl, obviously on her break, is smoking and chatting on the phone. Three more people that could've helped out in there. I walked away unhappy. Not with them but with myself. Like I said, we subject ourselves to this. And, as I got in my car, one thought kept gnawing at me....

...did I order a pie? I wanted a pie.