Many years ago when I was a pre-teen, I was up late reading when I heard someone walking on the roof of our house. I will never forget that moment, because I was just sitting at my desk, when suddenly I heard heavy footsteps across our roof. I quickly woke up my dad, who called the police. To make a long story short, the intruder was not found - but I buried deep into my subconscious that it was due to my actions (namely, being awake) that saved us all. Thus began my never-ending trial with insomnia. I started staying up late, because I feared another intruder. Watching movies like “When A Stranger Calls” (the original version with Carol Kane) did not help.<p>Later, when I entered college I discovered that I was a serial procrastinator. Nothing really seemed <i>that urgent</i> unless it was the night before the due date. Combined with the advent of the web, my circadian rhythm was forever altered. If I was not burning through the midnight oil for a deadline, I was browsing around in some forum or downloading songs through Napster.<p>Next came the long-awaited moment of getting my first apartment. This was pure heaven. I could stay up as late as I wanted, without disturbing anyone.<p>Now, I am in my mid-thirties, and I am unable to go to sleep without 10mg of Ambien. If I could tolerate the taste of alcohol, I would probably be an alcoholic. I truly envy those who can fall asleep within 10 minutes.