Do You Wake in the Middle of the Night and Can't Get Back to Sleep?

I woke up at 3a.m. I'm finishing Barry Lyndon now. I dozed out a few times, but didn't really sleep. So, do I start my day now? I don't know.
A whale's tail, according to dreams, is a powerful propellant against that which swims behind; and a bicycle can be peddled, with wings hoisted above that flap by a rope pulled by either arm of the rider, to fly.
Why in that house, all to myself, were those two moochers with me? These women who want to talk, have nothing to say, and never want to listen. I could say something more to them, but they don't care. They will use it as a segue, poor as it may be, to say something else of their own.
My God. I planned to buy groceries. Why did they buy four cartons of milk? And all those prepared and snack foods, overlooking produce and items with which to prepare meals? and then expect repayment for all this I do not care for? Out of my dream, women. I've a wedding for my good friend Barry Lyndon to attend.
What an outlandish wedding with all the accoutrement. Dreadfully long ceremony, disgustingly uncomfortable clothing, and everyone seems to snub each other. I'm going to hit on all the women, steal away with each for just long enough to lure their desire, then drop them, all to spite their husbands and their own snotty upittyness; and I'm going to kneel here, now that the ceremony is over and everyone is escorted to the dining hall, and disrobe; and steal this figurine, just because people with this much will not notice this is missing - why, a figurine of my dear friend Barry Lyndon!
(Oh, I see I'm closely watched by a guard. Let's see how many garments I can remove before people passing and this guard who stares on me become uncomfortable.) There, all done. To eat!