testing the theory that typing will keep me awake
I'm so tired that I'm too tired to fantasize about napping. Seriously. I'm sitting here thinking, "Okay, if you could fall asleep anywhere in the world, were would be?" and my brain just keeps responding, "Right here! At this desk! Put your head down and go to sleep! Now!"
Holy hell, is being on a slam team a lot of a work. So many bouts! So many rehearsals! I can't remember the last day I wasn't on the subway going some where slam-related.
More than once this month, Shap has woke up to the site of me staring at him sleeping in bed (damn bartender boyfriends who don't even set alarms in the morning!), mumbling to myself: I regret everything.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, right before I go to sleep, I sometimes ask Shappy a strange question that I don't fully remember asking him the next day. Recently I asked him if boys have sleepover parties (they do) and what his top three favorite sodas were (Mr. Pibb was #1). Last week I asked him what president dropped the A-bomb. I blame the last question on Anis, since the awesome vintage presidential trivia book he got me, which - alas -- stops at FDR. (The answer is Truman).
Unrelatedly, the auto-correct function on computers is great only if you do most of your writing on a computer with auto-correct. Once you use a pen and paper, though, that shit comes back to bite you on the ass. Turns out you can't spell for shit.
Also unrelatedly, people reading emails on their cellphones causes a surprising amount of problems. Keep scrolling down. A paragraph break doth not an end of an email make.
Sometimes I can't tell if I'm almost almost perfectly caffeinated or just past being perfectly caffeinated. A couple more gulps of coffee? Or one gulp too much?
I wonder if I post on LJ more because less people use it. Is it that less people seeing it? Or is that I just like whose left?
Holy hell, is being on a slam team a lot of a work. So many bouts! So many rehearsals! I can't remember the last day I wasn't on the subway going some where slam-related.
More than once this month, Shap has woke up to the site of me staring at him sleeping in bed (damn bartender boyfriends who don't even set alarms in the morning!), mumbling to myself: I regret everything.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, right before I go to sleep, I sometimes ask Shappy a strange question that I don't fully remember asking him the next day. Recently I asked him if boys have sleepover parties (they do) and what his top three favorite sodas were (Mr. Pibb was #1). Last week I asked him what president dropped the A-bomb. I blame the last question on Anis, since the awesome vintage presidential trivia book he got me, which - alas -- stops at FDR. (The answer is Truman).
Unrelatedly, the auto-correct function on computers is great only if you do most of your writing on a computer with auto-correct. Once you use a pen and paper, though, that shit comes back to bite you on the ass. Turns out you can't spell for shit.
Also unrelatedly, people reading emails on their cellphones causes a surprising amount of problems. Keep scrolling down. A paragraph break doth not an end of an email make.
Sometimes I can't tell if I'm almost almost perfectly caffeinated or just past being perfectly caffeinated. A couple more gulps of coffee? Or one gulp too much?
I wonder if I post on LJ more because less people use it. Is it that less people seeing it? Or is that I just like whose left?