Okay, serious problem here. I am expected at papa's house tomorrow morning, but things are not working out right. I've been half dead today because I ended up staying up late last night and got 3 hours of sleep, then no opportunities later in the day to take a nap. Now it's 12:30 again which leaves me with 4:45 of sleep and counting down. And tomorrow I am expected to perform manual labor clear, alert, and responsively. Never mind about the fact that everybody expects me to be a different person than who I am, in terms of what kind of work I do. I can't face that jerk when I'm all tired out of my keester. I was feeling sick today, with a headache and dizziness. I couldn't hold a conversation without passing out every handful of seconds or so. Even now my inner ear seems to think everything is rorating counterclockwise.
Anyway, so I'm not handling this whole "come visit me so I can pay you to do work around the house" thing very well at all. I guess it's not out of the question, as an idea. People get paid by their parents all the time. But it's just... it's... I dunno. Maybe I'll just pretend to oversleep and miss my only chance to help them out with spring cleaning. That'd be even worse though if he decided to drop everything and make the 70 minute car ride each way to pick miserable old me up and back again.
I still don't want to sleep--it's a fear really. I love the warm enveloping darkness, the quiet sounds of the night from the safety of my warm blanket. But sometimes it's just so hard in that low level of stimulation, all the hideous horrors that plague me, mortality, hopelessness, trivium, failed ambition, unrealized desire, choked expression, come rushing up. When there's nothing to look at, nothing to listen to, only my imagination can distract me from that sinkhole of thought. And in my imagination even, winter is creeping in.
Um... I don't really have a point I guess. Mostly what I hate most about sleeping these days is waking up. Wish I could skip doing that.
Nope, I am slave to tendancy. I'm up and my timing is perfect, and I hate that.
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