I have been battling insomnia since my big move last month (and a little before then, too), so last night, I took a sleeping pill for the very first time. It was pretty unpleasant, and not entirely effective. I woke up far more often than usual. I woke up about fifty times. I woke up every time something fantastical happened in one of my dreams. It’s like the sleeping pill didn’t let me turn off the fact-checking part of my brain. Best friends with a baby elephant? I don’t think so. Swimming with mermaids and talking sea turtles? Not tonight! Ghost-hunting with Tyrion Lannister? You wish. Since I wasn’t allowed to stay asleep as long as my dreams were mildly interesting, I finally got two solid hours in while dreaming of building a chicken coop. I woke up when I decided to put pink rats in it instead, though.