The Coyote Chronicles, Or: Let Me Sing You the Song of My People

I’m beginning to think that my spirit animal is a coyote.

Why?

Because clearly, we keep the same schedule.

Over the past few weeks, the weather here has cooled off, and the animals around here have been preparing for the winter. The squirrels have been plumping themselves up on whatever-the-Hell, and the geese have been performing dry runs in the parking lot of the grocery store down the street.

Along with this is the obligatory appearance of more deer, as they migrate from northern Wisconsin, and close on their tracks are the coyote.

Which is fine. I mean, I’m here for coyotes, and shit. Generally.

But what I wasn’t prepared for was all the noise.

Have you ever heard a pack of coyotes, when they all get together and sing the songs of their people? I mean, a real live, standing room only, coyote jam? It involves a lot of screeching, yipping, howling and barking.

Kinda like a Bid Whist game at my family reunion.

Basically, it’s a bunch of wild dogs, all talking over each other, for no fucking reason.

Like this:

Like me and my friends, after a couple of drinks.

So, what usually sets off this cacophony of wild dog shit-talkery?

Ambulance sirens.

But not just any sirens, no. Just the ones that occur sometime between 2 and 5 in the cottdamb morning.

Right around the time I tumble out of deep sleep, for no reason at all.

So, I lay there, in the dark, listening to my canine brothers in the sleepless struggle, as they chatter back at the sirens.

And for some reason, I’m comforted by the sound.

And I am lulled back to sleep.

Soon, they will move on, as they do every year. And during those early morning hours, when I am pulled out of sleep by unseen forces, I will have to endure that time alone.

By the time that happens, I’ll have found another lullaby.

But until then, I’ll lie here, bathed in the green glow of my clock.

And wait for the sirens.

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Sleep vs. Grind: Why “You Sleep, We Grind” Makes Me Wanna Scream and Punch Things

So, what?

This is supposed to be commendable, this “no-sleeping” thing you’re doing?

Am I supposed to be envious? To feel bad about using the twilight hours for R.E.M. instead of, I dunno, nodding to some wack-ass Hip Hop track you wrote, or whatever the fuck you exhausted-ass cool kids do?

When you say that, am I supposed to quietly reflect on all of the time I waste while indulging in the regenerative, restorative powers of sleep?

Are you supposed to be some kind of time management role model, out here doing the most with all of the hours of the day while the rest of us good-for-nothing, triflin’ asses get a good night’s sleep?

See, here’s the thing – you might be right, if the following weren’t true:

You look like shit.

No, seriously. You look a mess. Like, you’ve aged about 20 years in the last two months.

But, you’ve got all that stuff done, so…

And about that stuff you’ve been sacrificing your sleep for? That book [slash] album [slash] movie script [slash] business plan you’ve been working on?

It’s poop.

Poopular.

Poopish.

Poopesque.

Of, or having a poop-like quality.

And I’m sure you’re brilliant, otherwise. But your deliberate eschewal (yes. that’s a word.) of sleep has rendered your mental and biological capacities, uh, well, lacking.

I’ll explain.

Lack of sleep can rob your brain of the information that you’ve collected that day through your five senses. That means, anything that you’ll need to file away for retrieval at a later date is lost if you are sleep-deprived.

No sleep makes you more susceptible to colds and flu.

Team No Sleep can have an increased chance of inflammation in the blood vessels and arteries – which could make yo cool asses all heart attack-y and diabete-y.

Studies also show that lack of sleep can make you cool kids more likely to become obese.

And lastly, you fat, grindin’ muhfuggas most likely suffer from poor judgement, due to lack of proper rest. So, you should probably put that “FIYE” track to the side, take your ass to bed, then listen to it again in the morning.

Betchu that shit ain’t hot, still.

BETCHU.

Seriously. Youse guys. This shit is important. I know you’re thinking, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Well, you keep dodging the recommended 7-8 hours a night, and you’ll be dead sooner than you think.

And not just that – you’ll look a mess. Did I already say that?

I mean, this is the one common thing about people who say that shit. They all look 20 years older than their actual age. Talmbout, “I’m gettin’ it in,” and lookin’ like:

And got the NOIVE to wag fingers at the rest of us, like, “you lazy bunch of monkeys.”

“Look at me, over here doin’ great shit while you sleep.”

And the more y’all talk, the crazier y’all sound. Which can only be attributed to the fact that y’all babies are tired as Hell.

Okay, I may be exaggerating a little.

But only a little, Children.

Going without sleep just isn’t good for you. Period. Ask anybody with insomnia who wishes they can take their asses to sleep.

Or a new parent, who would kill for an unbroken 7-8 hours.

To people like us, your “You Sleep, We Grind” seems ridiculous.

Go somewhere and lie down.

And shut it.