Products of sleeping when the sun is up.

Sickness is so goofy. It's two o'clock in the morning. I should definitely be asleep right now. I am not physically capable of anymore sleep. Eight hours' sleep plus an eight hour "nap" with only four hours of consciousness inbetween equals insomnia during normal sleeping time.

My laptop is right under my bed. I could for totes be watching this week's White Collar. At the very least, I could be actually writing a post on this blog, instead of writing an email to my blog because Safari on my iPod is kind of a jackass.

Harrumph. I don't really want to be awake. I'd much rather be sleeping, 'cause I've got stuff I could be doing tomorrow. I just realized how messed up my sleep schedule is gonna be with just a few days of this. Good grief. Good gravy. Ooh, I wish my throat wasn't so stupid right now so I could drink some chocolate milk. That always makes everything better.

I think I may be legitimately addicted to chocolate milk. As in, I've acquired a physical dependence on it. Yesterday, when my throat hurt but not to the point that I was grimacing with every swallow, I kept drinking chocolate milk even though it bugged my throat and didn't taste very good. That's nonsense. Pure, utter, psychologically misaligned nonsense.

Speaking of nonsense, it is ridiculously hard to eat when you've got absolutely no appetite for anything. I can't decide whether I'm really not hungry, or whether my stomach is just ignoring its own emptiness. To be honest, I won't be eating much more than crackers, should food truly prove itself necessary. Crackers and water. Lovely. It's no wonder I've got no appetite when that's all I can stomach.

The invisible string of narration connecting each of these paragraphs is getting thinner and thinner as I continue to babble. I think I'm gonna call it a night, eat some crackers, take some Tylenol, and try
to catch a few zzzs.

Five bucks says that if you called me an hour from now, I'll still be playing solitaire on my iPod.

Sent from my toaster.