You spend twenty minutes finding the perfect sleeping position, your pillow finally doesn't feel like a bag of gravel, and you're genuinely about to drift off—that's when your bladder sends the memo it should have sent three hours ago. So you throw off the covers like you're escaping a fire, shuffle to the bathroom in the dark, and when you get back to bed, your pillow has somehow become a bag of gravel again and the temperature has reset to "surface of the sun." The real betrayal is that your body *knew* the whole time.