I would post but my good LORD how is it so hot in here. Faces are not supposed to sweat. That is something I firmly believe. Surely this whole scenario should make sweet delicious cups of cheap nonsense coffee less attractive but no, I want them. I want them very badly. I haven’t slept in days. I have discovered that being on edge is a prerequisite of good writing. I have been doing some very, very good writing. Everyone should read some Roberto Bolaño. Where was I? Oh, right.
Tag Archive for 'sleep'
It’s bizarre how messed up you can get simply by not sleeping. I’ve been completely useless for the last couple of weeks and I’m pretty sure I was seeing through time for a while. Plus the weird fascination with what my hair was doing: I woke up one morning with it stubbornly piled on one side of my head which, combined with the natrual eyeshadow afforded by my heroin-addict good looks, made me a shoe-in for a New Romantic. At least until it went all Dylan-Moran-in-an-explosion-factory and I started feeling all deranged postpunk nasty. This happened without me getting anywhere near a mirror, by the way. I was learning of my hair situation subconsciously, through some kind of barnet osmosis. This1 leads me to believe that my hair is essentially a more versatile, less vindictive Venom symbiote. Whatevs. The ladiezz still love it, yo.
- and the sleep deprivation, obviously [↩]
I had no idea what my alarm was this morning. I’m talking serious moment of panic. This weird beeping noise coming out of the walls, my phone hopping around with these unfamiliar lights coming out of it… and this was after waking up in the middle of the night and spending a bleary few minutes trying to figure out how the walls had reconfigured themselves without anyone noticing.
Seriously disoriented. On the other hand, great hair today.
My sleep patterns have been all kinds of messed up lately. All this fooling around on other people’s schedules isn’t good for a body. Three cheers for holidays then, because things have been getting back to normal. For instance: last Tuesday evening I grabbed a bus after work, met up with a friend I don’t see half enough, watched a bunch of stupid videos1, watched Syriana, read the Wikipedia article about Syriana, read the back of the Syriana DVD box, gave up on Syriana, went home, played Mario Galaxy til five in the morning, went to bed, woke up sometime in the middle of Christmas Eve. That’s a good night by anyone’s standards.
Since then I’ve gotten nicely into a groove of bed at 0700, up at 1500. That’s a sensible use of time. Who needs more than an hour’s daylight?
- I say stupid, that last one’s brilliantly done. Australian comedy: underrated. [↩]
I remember journeying home from France as a child, being awake for around 18 hours, and my brother saying how he wasn’t tired because he’d “passed the wall”. There does seem to be some kind of backup generator that kicks in at a certain level of exhaustion, because I wasn’t tired at all for (most of) yesterday. I was practically hyperactive in the morning and cruising nicely in the afternoon.
On the other hand I’m properly banjaxed today. I would have typed this post earlier but lifting my arms seemed like too much effort. The decent enough amount of sleep I got last night pulled me up out of whatever wild-eyed rockstar mode I was pounding along in and replaced it with… well, you know that way you feel like you’ve been injected with lead sludge (as opposed to molten lead, which would be much too exciting).
The body is a curious thing, is my point.
from banging my noggin against the Free Rice game. It’s one hundred levels of vocab-testing madness! And for a good cause.
Actually, I don’t know how many levels there are. I’ve never made it past 49 (which still makes me pretty smart and handsome if you ask me) and it gets damn punishing. I hope the skinny bastards know what I’m going through here just so they can have their leisurely brunch in the sun.
In other news I remain superlatively tired, having never gotten around to a proper night’s sleep since Batman Weekend. Or long before, for that matter. Still: no time. There’s celebratory Antics to hit tonight, podcasting tomorrow and whatever’s going on on Friday on Friday. I shall trust in jaegerbombs and ProPlus to get me through.
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