Ok, new rule -- I absolutley have to stop eating dinner so late at night.
I mean sure, I had to go do some things yesterday that kept me out until like eight, eight-thirty and when I got home I really didn't want to think about much of anything at all (much less cook) -- but then an hour or so later when I realized I hadn't eaten much all day I got in one of those moods where just about anything was fair game. So I thawed a salmon filet, chopped up some mushrooms, and set the whole thing into the oven to cook for an hour.
I don't know -- I guess I finally fell out somewhere around 5:30 and woke up several hours later splayed out across my couch with a cat stretched out and snoring on my shoulder, but then I was so worn out from all the restless hours that the best I could do was crawl back to the bed and pass out dead again.
Now I find myself dragging around the apartment four cups of coffee down, wondering where the other half of my day has run off to.
But strangest of all is this feeling in my head that I can't shake, even after all the sleep I finally gave into this morning -- which is that
I mean sure, I had to go do some things yesterday that kept me out until like eight, eight-thirty and when I got home I really didn't want to think about much of anything at all (much less cook) -- but then an hour or so later when I realized I hadn't eaten much all day I got in one of those moods where just about anything was fair game. So I thawed a salmon filet, chopped up some mushrooms, and set the whole thing into the oven to cook for an hour.
And this was like 9:30, 10:00, you know?The meal turned out incredible, so that at least was worth it -- but it also helped cover up the fact Aja and I were munching out at like eleven-thirty (a fact that came clear into focus like 3 hours later when I was hopelessly awake with nothing better to do than flip through channel after channel of hell looking for something to veg out with and hopefully fall asleep to).
I don't know -- I guess I finally fell out somewhere around 5:30 and woke up several hours later splayed out across my couch with a cat stretched out and snoring on my shoulder, but then I was so worn out from all the restless hours that the best I could do was crawl back to the bed and pass out dead again.
Now I find myself dragging around the apartment four cups of coffee down, wondering where the other half of my day has run off to.
But strangest of all is this feeling in my head that I can't shake, even after all the sleep I finally gave into this morning -- which is that
Taking a nap would totally
kick ass right about now.
[Listening to: Echo and the Bunnymen, "The Killing Moon"]
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