I woke up at 2:50 PM, for example. I mean, I was supposed to be in Atlanta, eating lunch.
I should be ashamed of myself, really. I went to sleep at 6 am, after having woken up at 11 pm. I thought it was around 4 am when I woke up, though. Before that, I went to sleep at some point in the afternoon. Uh. Well I didn't sleep the night before, and went to sleep from 12 to 4, I guess. Nightmare.
I did, embarrassingly, dream though. But it's not ok because the only reason for that must just be some type of change in my diet. Whether an amount of food, or just one dollar-store brand pain pill, this also must be a result of this whole sleep-terror-carnage-hammer crap that I must be doing. It is very stomachache-worthy.
But why "write" after all this time? Because. It's one of the things that I do, apparently. You know, so I can be all "I do this, this, and this kinda". Maybe, though. It'll just be a part of it. It's ok because I know for fact that me doing this right now has absolutely no histrionic intention. And as a note to me in the future; I know.. it only gets more ironic. Eh, I'll only learn more about new words I guess.
Ok, so it's too late for me to respond to my job offer, I'm sure. So, the only other option is to wait out this hedonism, and do something new. At least something new won't be grueling. Yeah yeah yeah, the feeling of "dread" at the thought of putting on an apron and washing veggies. I'm still not ok with that. I found a dead spider in the celery once. Oh yeah, that's why I came up with that "pest vs. pesticide" crap. True, though.
Alright so I'll do this. My thought is just that if I have something to show for being alone, then it'll only gain me merits. No frosting and representational bacon for me, no more. "Alright, I get it. Beds are comfy." And anything that you can have an argument with yourself about it just good television.
Yall, I'm Donkey.
Well, at least one of us is fired from a job.
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