He started at midnight. His brain scoffing at the idea of sleep. His body slowly wilting in its absence. It was all he needed, even an hour, he be fine, hell twenty good minutes and he would be back in business. His brain said this, nonchalantly, like yeah no problem partner we can do that, and though it sounded good, actually pretty fucking great right about now, he knew for certain one thing, if he slept for an hour it’s going to be 6 hours, and if he legitimately wanted to close his eyelids for twenty minutes he knew they would stay locked shut for seven hours. No sleep, I will be fine he told himself. He remembered a podcast he heard about the navy seals. How the last six days, if you get that far in the selection program is called hell week, and involves not sleeping for six days, and if they could do six days then surely he could do one night. No problem. He cleared the desk, closed down the extra winsows on his computer, took off his socks and lay down on the couch to collect his thoughts, his eyes closed, his thoughts muddled into dreams, at 4am he opened his eyes, warm, fully dressed, the computer screen long since black, the room still brightly lit, snow had begun to fall. He reached for the diver, pulled it over top of him, rolled to his other side, cursing his original plan.