Don't fuck with Mr. Zero
So it's six o'clock in the morning and I have yet to go to sleep. I haven't been out doing stuff with anyone, as is usually the case when I'm up this late. Honestly, I tried to go to sleep around one in the morning. So as I sit here eating microwaved chicken and key lime pie with When Harry Met Sally playing in the background, I try to figure out WHY. And that's when I realize there are several factors at work that have led to my insomnia:
1)My sheets are in the wash, forcing me to try and sleep on my futon. And anyone who has sat on my futon knows that it is not a very comfortable piece of furniture.
2)My mom canceled the Directv so that we could switch to the Dish Network. Unfortunately, she scheduled the cancellation of the Directv and the installation of the Dish Network a week apart. Thus, I am without my precious televizzle for seven days. And it is a well-documented fact that I cannot sleep unless the TV is on (and tuned to VH1 or Nick@Nite. Somehow the voice of Jon Stamos can woo me to sleep).
3)I have a lot on my mind. And thanks to #2 there's no white noise to make my mind shut the fuck up.
4)Michelle from Denny's giving me the pot of coffee.
It's as though the goddamn stars aligned to keep me from sleeping. I'm serious, this cannot be a coincidence. Or maybe I've simply reached that level of insomnia where I become paranoid and delusional. Once during an all-nighter for Senior English I became convinced that someone was outside my window. So for several hours I would occasionally glance away from Microsoft Word to make sure no one was watching me. True Story. Back during sophomore year I was pulling an all-nighter to edit a movie for History, and I decided to pop in Emmitt Otter's Jugband Christmas, a heartwarming muppet movie featuring a cameo by Kermit the Frog. Then in the subsequent hours I decided that I myself was an otter, so I pretended to swim around my room. These things make sense at six o'clock in the morning...at least to me they do.
I tried to sleep on the old futon, but as previously mentioned it is an uncomfortable piece of shit. So I played a few records while reading my book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. I realized that I hate the author's views on everything and had to stop reading. Anyone that hates Return of the Jedi is not worthy of writing a pop culture book. Personally, I got nothing against ewoks. Dare I say I LOVE EWOKS. Anyone that hates ewoks are unemotional, condescending bastards who don't give a shit about Hollywood's out-of-work midgets. And the guy has never seen a single episode of The X-Files, and dislikes the Claire Danes drama "My So Called Life". So fuck you Chuck Klosterman. Go have another intellectual debate with your bourgeois friends from SPIN magazine.
High Fidelity, despite being a great movie, can usually put me right to sleep. So I put it in, watched the entire thing, and was still wide-awake. It was nice to see the ending, though. I've seen the first twenty minutes about a thousand times, but I've only seen the ending on those rare occasions when I watch the movie to watch a movie, and not to put me to sleep. I guess John Cusack is another man whose voice is capable of wooing me into a deep slumber. But not tonight, friend.
Then I climbed onto my bare mattress, where I laid on my back staring at the ceiling for about an hour. Finally I got really hungry so I went downstairs to get some food. Eric was getting ready for work when I walked into the kitchen. He assumed that I was just getting home, which was a stupid deduction seeing as how I was in my boxers. I warmed up some chicken, brought it upstairs, and put in When Harry Met Sally(another sleep-inducing but good film). Then I had the clever idea to get on the old livejournal, thinking that a recounting of this night would make me tired enough to go to sleep. Am I tired? No, not really. I'm actually still hungry. Am I really bored and static enough that I no longer need to sleep? I really want to go somewhere before the summer's over. It seems like everyone I know has been to Florida or Washington D.C. or somewhere else. I've been sitting here at Ten Mile Fucking Creek road all summer, awaiting(or dreading) the start of college. So maybe my body has no reason to sleep. After all, by definition sleep is "rest" and I don't really need to rest from anything (aside from occasional Fun Company work). Granted, I'd have a lot of extra time on my hands if this were true. But I love sleep, it's a wonderful escape in my opinion. And now it's time for me to try and escape again. Goodnight.
1)My sheets are in the wash, forcing me to try and sleep on my futon. And anyone who has sat on my futon knows that it is not a very comfortable piece of furniture.
2)My mom canceled the Directv so that we could switch to the Dish Network. Unfortunately, she scheduled the cancellation of the Directv and the installation of the Dish Network a week apart. Thus, I am without my precious televizzle for seven days. And it is a well-documented fact that I cannot sleep unless the TV is on (and tuned to VH1 or Nick@Nite. Somehow the voice of Jon Stamos can woo me to sleep).
3)I have a lot on my mind. And thanks to #2 there's no white noise to make my mind shut the fuck up.
4)Michelle from Denny's giving me the pot of coffee.
It's as though the goddamn stars aligned to keep me from sleeping. I'm serious, this cannot be a coincidence. Or maybe I've simply reached that level of insomnia where I become paranoid and delusional. Once during an all-nighter for Senior English I became convinced that someone was outside my window. So for several hours I would occasionally glance away from Microsoft Word to make sure no one was watching me. True Story. Back during sophomore year I was pulling an all-nighter to edit a movie for History, and I decided to pop in Emmitt Otter's Jugband Christmas, a heartwarming muppet movie featuring a cameo by Kermit the Frog. Then in the subsequent hours I decided that I myself was an otter, so I pretended to swim around my room. These things make sense at six o'clock in the morning...at least to me they do.
I tried to sleep on the old futon, but as previously mentioned it is an uncomfortable piece of shit. So I played a few records while reading my book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. I realized that I hate the author's views on everything and had to stop reading. Anyone that hates Return of the Jedi is not worthy of writing a pop culture book. Personally, I got nothing against ewoks. Dare I say I LOVE EWOKS. Anyone that hates ewoks are unemotional, condescending bastards who don't give a shit about Hollywood's out-of-work midgets. And the guy has never seen a single episode of The X-Files, and dislikes the Claire Danes drama "My So Called Life". So fuck you Chuck Klosterman. Go have another intellectual debate with your bourgeois friends from SPIN magazine.
High Fidelity, despite being a great movie, can usually put me right to sleep. So I put it in, watched the entire thing, and was still wide-awake. It was nice to see the ending, though. I've seen the first twenty minutes about a thousand times, but I've only seen the ending on those rare occasions when I watch the movie to watch a movie, and not to put me to sleep. I guess John Cusack is another man whose voice is capable of wooing me into a deep slumber. But not tonight, friend.
Then I climbed onto my bare mattress, where I laid on my back staring at the ceiling for about an hour. Finally I got really hungry so I went downstairs to get some food. Eric was getting ready for work when I walked into the kitchen. He assumed that I was just getting home, which was a stupid deduction seeing as how I was in my boxers. I warmed up some chicken, brought it upstairs, and put in When Harry Met Sally(another sleep-inducing but good film). Then I had the clever idea to get on the old livejournal, thinking that a recounting of this night would make me tired enough to go to sleep. Am I tired? No, not really. I'm actually still hungry. Am I really bored and static enough that I no longer need to sleep? I really want to go somewhere before the summer's over. It seems like everyone I know has been to Florida or Washington D.C. or somewhere else. I've been sitting here at Ten Mile Fucking Creek road all summer, awaiting(or dreading) the start of college. So maybe my body has no reason to sleep. After all, by definition sleep is "rest" and I don't really need to rest from anything (aside from occasional Fun Company work). Granted, I'd have a lot of extra time on my hands if this were true. But I love sleep, it's a wonderful escape in my opinion. And now it's time for me to try and escape again. Goodnight.