It is now time for me to stare at the ceiling, think of loved ones I worry about, play out imaginary arguments with international douchetrucks, and try to solve global corruption and general callousness toward human suffering in my head until I fall asleep.

(Even the sheep don't get involved. "Buddy," they tell me. "You keep forgetting to count us and ask us existential questions instead. Hate to break it to you, but we have *so* many better offers in other heads." Which is fair.)

Night, CoSo!