awake

i can't sleep.

it's eight o clock at night and i'm sleepy, but i can't sleep, so i decided to turn on my trusty laptop and ramble a little.

 

hang on, i need a little music. what should i listen to... zero 7 seems suitable enough... a little pseudo lounge ambiance for my dark little bunk bed cave.

 

part of the reason that i can't sleep is my fault. i got 'home' from work at around 2 after lunch and i was fairly sleepy. i didn't quite have the motivation to go to the gym and so after about 20 minutes of just laying on my bed in a daze, unwilling to move for just about anything, i decided... screw it... i'll go to bed now and wake up at 10 or 11 tonight and go to the gym then when it is not crowded. that way, if i feel like i need to sleep a little more than 8 hours, i can... last night i got about 5 hours worth and it was by no means satisfying.

 

so i did. i brushed my teeth, pulled back my sheets, jumped in, and off i traveled to slumberland. then i woke up at 7pm just now... well 45 minutes ago... and although i am still sleepy (yawning even), i just can't seem to knock myself out again.

 

great idea dude... now i have 9 hours before i have to be at work for an 10 hour day... AND the gym is at its most crowded right now.

 

on a different note: my floor looks like a cock fighting arena... there are feathers everywhere. the somewhat less expensive down comforter that i purchased before i left seems to have been manufactured by the same people who put braille on drive through ATMs.

 

everyone imagines down feathers as such a soft and insulating material... what they fail to detect is the needle sharp little tips of each feather where it was originally attached to the bird. if one were to, by chance, pack several tens of thousands of these little feathery barblets into a low thread count cover and then sell it to unwitting customers who are only looking for a warm night of sound sleep, then one could probably make a fair amount of money. that unscrupulous individual would only have to come to terms with the fact that said customer would feel like he or she was sleeping in a porcupine nest... night... after night...

 

i've gotten used to the fact that feathers are everywhere. they are stuck to my clothes. they pile up in dunes across my floor. they weave themselves into the weft of my very soul and i cannot get rid of them.

 

that's probably a little overdramatic, but then again i suppose all duck lepers are a little melodramatic when they are tired.

peace out yo.