Marc
These naps are killing me. It's like I'm having trouble keeping my head up when I sit down. I watch two Simpsons episodes, and I'm out like a light for almost a half hour. And the strange part is that I got close to six hours sleep last night. There's no earthly reason why I should be so tired, but that doesn't stop it. The only saviour I have is that damned F Zero X game that my roommate, Jeff, has gotten so good at. I can't beat him, no matter how hard I try. And our neighbor, Josh, comes over, and they race each other over and over again, saying almost every time they finish a race that the next one will be their last race. But it never is, and they don't mind that I'm sleeping less than twenty four inches away from them, and that I can hear their controls being prodded and twisted along with their digital, futuristic racing machines. And I don't mind them talking, because it's kind of keeping me awake, and I wasn't really sleeping that well in the first place because I still had on my Doc Martens, which I wore for the first time in months today, and they're big, and not meant to be propped up on couch backs, or couch arms, or dangled over the sides of delapidated couches. But I still tried, for almost a solid hour, to get some shut eye, and I kind of succeeded, getting almost twenty solid minutes of a nap in, but my body felt terrible afterwards, like someone ran over it a couple of times. And I was kind of sweaty, because someone cranked the heating vent yesterday due to the cold weather, but it's like thirty degrees warmer today, and it was almost unbearably hot in the living room with the heat vent cranking along. So, I finally decided to wake up, turn the heat vent off, and head into my room to see if I could get some work done, which is still up in the air because, here I am, BLARGing at the speed of light, with my headphones on, and Springsteen's "Highway Patrolman" in the queue, and that's not all. There are a ton more songs in the queue that are nearly as sad, or sappy as this song, like "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds and "Time Is Gone" by Duvall" and "Don't Speak" by No Doubt. And I have a bit of fear mentioning that last one, because I'm a closet No Doubt fan, at least the songs they put out on the radio, just like I'm scared that I may be a tiny bit of a closet Aerosmith fan, and I feel like I should immediately delete at least one of these last two statements, but I won't because my hands are tired, and so are my eyes, and I'm looking over at my bed, and that stupid Tom Sawyer book, and they're both calling my name, and I've got to choose one, but I'm so up in the air as to which one it's going to be ...
These naps are killing me. It's like I'm having trouble keeping my head up when I sit down. I watch two Simpsons episodes, and I'm out like a light for almost a half hour. And the strange part is that I got close to six hours sleep last night. There's no earthly reason why I should be so tired, but that doesn't stop it. The only saviour I have is that damned F Zero X game that my roommate, Jeff, has gotten so good at. I can't beat him, no matter how hard I try. And our neighbor, Josh, comes over, and they race each other over and over again, saying almost every time they finish a race that the next one will be their last race. But it never is, and they don't mind that I'm sleeping less than twenty four inches away from them, and that I can hear their controls being prodded and twisted along with their digital, futuristic racing machines. And I don't mind them talking, because it's kind of keeping me awake, and I wasn't really sleeping that well in the first place because I still had on my Doc Martens, which I wore for the first time in months today, and they're big, and not meant to be propped up on couch backs, or couch arms, or dangled over the sides of delapidated couches. But I still tried, for almost a solid hour, to get some shut eye, and I kind of succeeded, getting almost twenty solid minutes of a nap in, but my body felt terrible afterwards, like someone ran over it a couple of times. And I was kind of sweaty, because someone cranked the heating vent yesterday due to the cold weather, but it's like thirty degrees warmer today, and it was almost unbearably hot in the living room with the heat vent cranking along. So, I finally decided to wake up, turn the heat vent off, and head into my room to see if I could get some work done, which is still up in the air because, here I am, BLARGing at the speed of light, with my headphones on, and Springsteen's "Highway Patrolman" in the queue, and that's not all. There are a ton more songs in the queue that are nearly as sad, or sappy as this song, like "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds and "Time Is Gone" by Duvall" and "Don't Speak" by No Doubt. And I have a bit of fear mentioning that last one, because I'm a closet No Doubt fan, at least the songs they put out on the radio, just like I'm scared that I may be a tiny bit of a closet Aerosmith fan, and I feel like I should immediately delete at least one of these last two statements, but I won't because my hands are tired, and so are my eyes, and I'm looking over at my bed, and that stupid Tom Sawyer book, and they're both calling my name, and I've got to choose one, but I'm so up in the air as to which one it's going to be ...
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