Author: Linda McMullen

I turn onto my side as a MyPillow ad launches behind my eyelids. They fly open. The algorithm adjusts. I settle back down. A commercial for a sleep number mattress plays, and I wonder if it’s worth the money. I decide that a) it probably is, and b) I probably need to let go of this spring-studded catamaran I’ve had since I lived at home – sentimental value notwithstanding. The micro-shot of dopamine that this decision produces has clearly registered, because the next ad is also for a mattress.

I wish I could afford to upgrade to the premium plan, but those sleep-number things aren’t cheap, and… well… it’s another $120 a year, and for that maybe I could invest in a heavy comforter –

A pop-up ad: Would you like to try our Silver Package? Just $5 for the first month –

“No!” I exclaim, “and if this is how you run your service, maybe I’ll just cancel!”

The next ad (for a weighted blanket) vanishes mid-word, and my program appears:

Complete blackness, accompanied by white noise.

It’s… gosh, that blessed static!… it’s louder than you… well, thank goodness for it, because… because… so hard to… much harder to… wide open… four a.m. flashing on the… I signed up after the… so many senseless…


…Mom…
…Facetime…
…tubes…
…beeps…

…no beeps…



…but the white noise…
…helps to…