Words Written: CSF 402

I just don’t get this sleep thing. I’m tired at night. I want to sleep. It’s not the sort of insomnia where you’re just awake, and you might as well get up and do something productive. No, if I got up, I’d just stare blearily at something and wish I were sleeping. I got up at midnight last night for Remegel and called Ken, because I hadn’t talked to him earlier. We talked until 12:40 or so, and then I considered reading for a bit, but I was too damn tired. But I don’t really recall actual sleep until after a 3:30 a.m. bathroom run. And then I could barely open my eyes when the alarm went off. This is just weird.

Tomorrow morning, I’m sleeping as late as my body damn well wants to. It may not help me get to sleep tomorrow night, but at least I’ll be well-rested tomorrow.

The irony is that I’m sure I just put ya’ll to sleep with that boring rambling!

Other than the sleep thing, it’s been a nice day so far. Wrote on the carpool. Got a fantastic massage. Went for a pleasant and brisk walk with Elisabeth. Ate a yummy sandwich (pastrami, melted Swiss, Russian dressing, and coleslaw on rye—it’s called a Dar’s Sky-High by the delivery deli). I’ve got a chiro appt scheduled this evening, and then it’s the weekend, hurrah!

(Yes, I actually do get work done at work, between the massage and the walk and lunch and all. Really I do.)

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Hee! I just ordered the coolest presents for a couple of friends! I really want to talk about them, but I can’t, in case they read this. Oh, but I’m annoying proud of myself over this one.

I just hope the damn things arrive on time. I only just had the idea, so I’m cutting it a little close on the shipping.

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I’m in a strangely good mood right now. Not sure why. Not complaining, though! In fact, I fully intend to be relentlessly cheerful this entire weekend. So there.

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Morgana and Brian invited me over for dinner, and I couldn’t refuse. So after my chiro adjustment I went, and we had a nice long chat before I wandered back home. I might go to the movies and dinner with them tomorrow—we have a new cheap theatre in town ($2 matinees, $3 evening shows!) and they haven’t seen Hitchhiker’s Guide yet. Or maybe I’ll meet them for dinner and then watch a movie with them; they have a couple of Merchant Ivory films from Netflix that I haven’t seen yet. (I love Remains of the Day

So now I’m puttering on the computer and cleaning a few things off my desk, trying to decide whether to stay up stupidly late (in the hopes of actually sleeping) and watch some TV.

Speaking of which, I just toddled downstairs to get another glass of wine and some cheese and crackers (did I mention that when Ken came home, he brought me a present: Tilamook extra-sharp cheddar!), and I was compelled to turn on the TV. And I saw, much to my astonishment, a very old Jethro Tull video for “Too Old to Rock and Roll, Too Young to Die”! I had no idea! Ian Anderson was so young—what did he know about being too old to rock and roll? (And precisely what is too old to rock and roll? Let me know, because quite honestly, once I hit that age, I’m perfectly willing to die.)

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Currently Reading: Always a Bridegroom, Tesni Morgan; latest Realms of Fantasy
Lately Listened To: Evanescence, Fallen; Chris de Burgh, The Getaway (two of the most opposite types of music possible!) Recently Watched: nuthin’