I'm at the point in my high where I actually want to smoke legit cigarettes, but they taste like ham sandwiches. Which is super bizarro because they're menthols.
I'm sadface that I decided this would be a good way to handle stress. Dumb. That Chaucerian shithole outline was craptastic enough for me to actually feel guilty that I turned that piece of shit in. If I were my professor, I'd hate me, it's that bad.
But yeah, beyond the ham, I feel like I've drank five beers. But this is not beer-intoxication. If it was beer-intoxication, I'd be jonesing for a make out session. I just feel lethargic. If ninjas attacked right now, I couldn't even hide in my shell because I'm not a turtle. I'm turtle-slow.
I haven't slept in a day, have had four cups of coffee in a row, might piss myself in a moment, and still I can't tell if I'm mostly running on substances, caffeine, the tail end of an adrenaline rush, or stubbornness.
All I can think of is fucking getting out of Kirksville. Or day drinking. Or the fact that I probably have another thing due at five, but can't actually remember because recently I've been mistaking dreams I've been having for reality.
Spooooky.