Barely conscious…

My first day back is usually a struggle not to sleep too much.

And I’m fucked either way.

If I sleep too much, I can’t sleep at night and I”m useless.

If I sleep too little, I can’t think, I’m basically a big drool monkey and I’m useless.

Useless me.

That is the story of today.

And I babble.

I tell Mate the specifics of my trials. How many hours without sleep. How long it’s been since I’ve eaten. WHY I’m a completely useless drool monkey, how I shall endeavor to not be a completely useless ball of slobber and babble the next day.

Mate is like, “I get it. You’re tired. Don’t worry about it. You’ll be okay in the morning!”

And I’m like, “blah blah blah blah sleep blah blah RWA blah blah food? blah blah I’m a space case blah blah blah…”

And the kids are all glomming on me and cuddling and the animals are forming a semi-satanic complete circle around my feet to curse me into never leaving again.

Or that’s what it looks like–that last fact is undocumented.


All this to say I’m going to bed and if I’m smart I won’t get out for a while.


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