It's 2.52am. And I have a thought about insomnia. Don't you think it'd be so much better if the point of insomnia was to be awake for the delivery of some kind of pie?
For those who make it to 3.02am: apple strudel gets delivered. Maybe even a chocolate cake. It would revolutionise the insomniacs. They'd suddenly feel good about the long, pointless, existential nights.
A big truck. It miraculously knows where you are and that you're awake. It swings by before the sun comes up and delivers you a lemon meringue pie.
Everyone else wakes up a few hours later. Grumpy, bored and desperate for caffeine. But the insomniacs are alive! They're ecstatic! They've just eaten a delicious spongecake with a generous helping of vanilla ice cream.
Everyone would want to be us. They'd stay up all night, just for that moment. The magnificently glorious time of morning.
It's just gone 3am. A truck pulls up outside. Your pie is here.