It's 6 In The Morning...
...and I can't sleep. Believe me, I've been eagarly trying since 2. I'm sitting at Mikee's computer chair, wearing a plaid flannel blanket my mother bought him for christmas and a smile. Well, more like a blank stare really. Transformers is on the television, my left ear itches like mad for some ungodly reason and Mikee's soft snoring is coming from the bed.
I'm uncomfortable for some reason, and I mildly feel like there is a tiny person inside my uterus punching me (there isn't, it just feels that way). My skin is dry and itchy from the fact that it is winter, my hair is greasy and needs to be washed, and Mikee's two younger siblings (Erik, 16 and Kelly, 15) will be up for school at any minute, so the odds of me sneaking in a warm shower before they destroy the hot water is slim. My nails are down to the nub from biting them and, for reason's I don't quite unerstand, I can't just close my eyes and let the wonderful feeling of sleep take me over.
I know the feeling, I'm just kind of procrastinating doing it.
I'm feeling creative.