My name is Will DeFries and this is a Sunday Scariest Podcast, your cure for the Sunday Blues.

My hand hovers over my phone waiting for the moment of truth.

It's a situation where I feel like I already know the answer,

but having confirmation is more of a requirement than a need. As I tap it,

all of my fears are brought to life. Yet again, it's 3am and yet again, I find myself awake.

Knowing it's too late to take a sleep supplement, I know I have no choice but to go about falling

back asleep cold turkey. But like it goes during any other sleepless night, every moment where I

can't fall asleep is another moment where I wonder what time it is. Please don't be after 330,

I tell myself. If it's after 4am, I might as well stay up, I continue.

But just as I drift off to sleep, I'm awoken by something

joy, clanking, beeping, crashing. Yep, the garbage truck has arrived to clear out the dumpsters

just down the street. If the anger I feel doesn't wake me up, my increased heart rate from being

rapidly awoken will. The only move at this point, give up, scroll instagram until I get dreary,

and hope that I can at least get one more hour of sleep before my alarm goes off.

The entire situation is something I've become all too familiar with. And because I don't want to

rely on sleep aids more than I already have in my life, I've recently been forced to seek other

avenues for increasing my RAM cycle. And up to this point, I truly feel like I've tried,

well pretty much everything. Blackout curtains, melatonin gummies, sleep meditations,

really the works. It wasn't until the other night that the nightly garbage truck finally put me

over the edge. Looking for anything to suppress the sound, I actually had an epiphany.

Use the white noise machine that my infant's son uses to sleep so soundly in his crib.

Well, I'm probably still considered a manchild in some sense of the word,

...