My fondest childhood memory is being able to sleep through the entire night and waking up rested.

I’m going to bed, everyone. Try to keep it down.

Instead of saying “Good morning,” my wife and I go straight into explanations of how badly we each slept.

Turns out I’m not an afternoon person either.

This can’t be the same body that used to be able to pull all nighters.

I only sleep so my phone can get the night off.

I wanted to sleep it off, but insomnia said, “Not tonight, buddy.”

Proverbs are so mean. Like, I don’t deserve any worm because I woke up at 11am? Like, no worm at all?

Blocking isn’t enough, I hope your pillow never has a cold side.

Getting up early would be easier if we could keep our eyes closed.

I can’t believe I slept good all night. What a rush.

The only thing keeping me from world domination is a good nap.

Dearest, I beg of you, sleep properly and go for walks.

Relationship status: I love my bed.

Tried counting sheep, but now I’m emotionally invested in their backstories and I think one might need therapy.

Of course I intermittently fast. That’s when I sleep.

Getting paid to sleep would be such a dream job.

Welcome to adulthood: 9pm is midnight now.

I keep all my valuables near the front door so if burglars breaks in during the night they will not wake me up.

All day I think about sleep but when it’s time to go to bed I don’t wanna.