(no subject)
At about 3:45, way too close to Leonard Cohen's four in the morning, I started screaming inside my head: WHAT WAS IT? WAS IT THE TEA? THE FUCKING TEA? CAN A GIRL NOT HAVE HER LADY GREY AND A CUPCAKE IN THE EVENING AND STILL GET A DECENT NIGHT'S SLEEP? Then I got out of bed (third time since one ... not that I'd like to be a winner in this contest) and now here I am, totally exhausted and totally unable to relax.
It doesn't help that my brain is caught up in conversations like this:
Brain: Check your email.
Brain: No.
Brain: Maybe someone's written to you since you last checked.
Brain: Nobody's awake at this hour, you idiot.
Brain: Maybe someone wrote you in the last five minutes.
Brain: No.
Brain: How about ... now.
Brain: Ok. And--I hate you.
(I should make it a one-conscience-talking-to-the-other dialogue for clarity's sake--but it's really just my scrambled self talking to my scrambled self.)
Now it actually is four, so I better go lie on my bed in martyr-pose and hope that my bedside lamp falls over and knocks me out or something. Just kidding. I am too paranoid to say or write something like that without fearing that it might come true.
It doesn't help that my brain is caught up in conversations like this:
Brain: Check your email.
Brain: No.
Brain: Maybe someone's written to you since you last checked.
Brain: Nobody's awake at this hour, you idiot.
Brain: Maybe someone wrote you in the last five minutes.
Brain: No.
Brain: How about ... now.
Brain: Ok. And--I hate you.
(I should make it a one-conscience-talking-to-the-other dialogue for clarity's sake--but it's really just my scrambled self talking to my scrambled self.)
Now it actually is four, so I better go lie on my bed in martyr-pose and hope that my bedside lamp falls over and knocks me out or something. Just kidding. I am too paranoid to say or write something like that without fearing that it might come true.