My eyeball has me thinking more about rest

For the first 30 or so years of my life, I had what I would describe as a “tense” relationship with sleep.

As far back as elementary school, I found it hard to fall asleep. Part of it was practical. Mom’s school schedule kept us out late. Then there was my damn praying habit. Somehow trying to prevent my unbelieving grandparents’ eternal damnation and solve world hunger was neither super relaxing nor soporific.