Being old, sometimes I will get tired and/or cranky and want a nap. Being an insomniac, it’s not very easy for me to nap so I never actively try. However, if I’m truly knackered, an involuntary nap can ambush me.
That happened earlier and I woke myself up twice by sleep-babbling. The first time, I was earnestly talking backwards. The second time, I was shouting about chamberpots.
The human brain is truly a marvel, but that doesn’t make the stuff that comes out of it any less stupid.
…and they left before their heads exploded, the end, yay.
while being a bit weird is mostly a hindrance, sometimes it does pay off a little.
I’d post “America, fuck yeah” under Drew but I suspect Cindy also does NOT like cussing.
Side note: It’s kind of satisfying to use all-caps for “not”, thanks Cindy!
I don’t like to be rude to proselytisers even though I don’t approve of what they do. But the really persistent ones do try my nerves an awful lot.
I took my headphones off for this shit. REGRET.
On the upside, when I put them back in, this came on.
I really hate the idea that those people who told me “you’ll change your mind” when I told them I didn’t ever want to be a mother might be right.
Even if they are right, they are also assholes.
Well, I am going to try the blog thing, in my own awkward way. I do have a “professional” blog festering somewhere but wanted a place where I could swear and talk about normal things. Be warned that this sudden burst of activity coincides with giving up smoking, so I’m a little scattered from riding around on the cold turkey all weekend.
I don’t miss nicotine at all
Exactly like that. As for right now, I can feel that there is a large globule of mucus that isn’t in my mouth enough to spit out and isn’t in my nose enough to blow out. It’s an improvement on last week, I suppose, when the mucus was far more aggressive and felt the need to launch itself at people (including one of my professors). The shame.
The mornings need to warm up again soon. Not too much, mind, but feeling cold in 5 layers of clothing gets old fast. The girls who can wear tiny skirts and no tights in winter must have far superior circulation to mine. Good for them, my blood is probably like tile grout by comparison.
It is Terrible Bedtime Movie Time, a ritual that seems to appease whichever unkind deity is responsible for bringing me sleep. Nighty night.