sleep walking

I just took a three-minute nap in the shower. It seemed the safest place to shut my eyes--tiles slippery and hard.

My sleep deprivation manifests itself in different levels.
1. Punch-drunk loopy. Frequents Lake Powell, but rarely visits during the school year.
2. Weepy. Has resulted in me crying under mine and Conlin's bed (because that is, if nothing else, a logical and dignified place to cry).
3. Profanity-laden. Examples not included.
4. Indifferent/robotic. This one is the most popular. It's likely the last time you talked to me, I was functioning at this level.

I feel like I'm viewing my life through a fog machine. I know what's happening, but it's fuzzy. Chuch Palahniuk says it best: "Everything is so far away, a copy of a copy of a copy. The insomnia distance of everything, you can't touch anything and nothing can touch you."

I have to pull an all-nighter tonight...and maybe tomorrow night as well (never done two in a row..I'm terrified). I'm not sure what level of tired this is yet. Knock on wood it's number four. Or three. One and two are not very helpful.

Sail

I'm pretty obsessed with this song. (Credit goes to my brother Q for introducing me).



I usually listen to an audiobook as I walk to campus and was about to change it to this song yesterday, when I reconsidered. I'm worried that it's powerful beat would, for whatever reason, result in me walking slowly with a maniacal grin on face and shoving people out of my way in a very dramatic, deliberate fashion. A little "Sail" montage of sorts.

Here's kinda what I pictured my face looking like in this strange little fantasy/vision:

MIA

If you can't get ahold of me the next couple days, I'll probably be in the hospital due to a caffeine overdose sponsored by Monster, Red Bull, and 5-hour-energy. Special thanks to English 495 and 365 for assigning 16 hours of research and a 13 page and 8 page paper due the same day.