Sleep
Not likely. It is dark, you are exhausted, the Bed is warm and soft. But Sleep is distant. You wonder how anyone has ever gotten to sleep. That is how unfamiliar the thing seems. Your outward senses are placated: there is no Light, no Sound, no Touch but the comfort of the Bed. But your inward senses are rampaging. You play through your imagined encounter with the Vicar repeatedly until it makes your Mind sick. He is broad and dignified, in a precise white Suit. He spends several minutes, inspecting every stitch. He takes notes. He asks tricky questions to trip you up. You answer them crisply and cleverly. You are ready. You are ready for a hundred variations of the scenario. You begin playing through number one hundred and one.