In Which Our Heroine Is Felled By One Mighty Stroke of the Clock

15 December 2003

Ughhhhhh. The alarm went off to take Mark to the airport at 5:15. But that's not the whole of it; no, I had to wake up in the night at 1:15, 2:15, and 4:15 just to make sure we hadn't slept through the alarm. Thanks, subconscious. I appreciate that a lot. (Had some interesting dreams, too. Thanks again, subconscious.)

So I'm cold and tired, but since I had to drive back from the airport, I was too awake to go back to sleep. But I'm not awake enough to do anything interesting. That includes e-mailing you, most likely. I'm shivering in jeans and wool socks and a sweatshirt; I'm oscillating between needing fuel and being unwilling/unable to eat. Last week on the phone Michelle was talking about not being able to go on very little sleep any more, and she was indignant at feeling so cruddy just for not having gotten enough sleep. I said, "Welcome to my world." I was never the kind of teenager who could go to bed at 2:00 a.m. after listening to music for hours, get up at 6:00 for Math Club or whatever, and be fine if I could get lots of sleep on the weekend. In college, I stayed up all night precisely once. Hmm. Maybe twice, depending on where the all night line is. I stayed up until 7:30 a.m. once -- that's for sure "all night" -- and until 5:00 a.m. the other time, which is not for sure "all night." Neither of them was a studying situation. Studying? At 3:30 in the morning? Oh yeah, I'd have learned a ton that way.

Will Shetterly has an interesting post on the magi. At least, I think it's interesting now. There's a good chance that it is. I may, however, be in that stage of tired where my fingers are interesting. I make no guarantees.

I've got the driving directions to my chiropractor's appointment printed out. I should get in the shower now. Maybe that will wake my brain up. At least it'll give my hair a bit of time to dry before I have to get back in the car again. It could work. And while I'm finding Heroes Die interesting, I don't think it's the kind of book that requires every last scrap of my brain. Which is a relief today.

Back to Novel Gazing.

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Or the last entry.

Or the next one.

Or even send me email.