Feb 012011
 
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Remember how tired I said I was yesterday? Apparently there was a miscommunication. Where the body delivered a message to my brain – via pony express, because there’s a full-on pony express network in my body shut up – the message was “Go to sleep.” What my brain received however was “WHOO ALL-NIGHT PARTY!”

Which I guess is what happens when you use the pony express.

The wrong message, that is, not specifically the note about partying.

Although maybe. I mean, I’d party too if I had a pony.

What was I saying?

So while I was supposed to go to bed at not just a decent time but an early time (especially for me), in actuality I was still wide awake at 3am. Then had to get up at 7am to take Mike to work.

So thanks for that, evil body/brain duo.

Today then I’ve existed in only the most literal sense. I accomplished nothing of any value. This has been one of the most ineffectual days I’ve ever had.

And I can still feel my brain buzzing, threatening to keep me up all of tonight too. Did you snort cocaine, Brain? How did you do that without Nose? Why must I be made to suffer?

But there are no answers, only low distant droning in the fog of my mind. We couldn’t even play London Calling tonight, Brain. I hope you’re happy.

Bastard.

ETA: Amy has opened commissions. If you’ve followed me for any length of time you know how awesome she is. Go here and get yourself something pretty.

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