Only I do.
So here I am awake in my hopes that getting it all out of my system and letting my body settle down before sleeping will ensure I make it calmly and comfortably to work in the morning.
Insert segue here.
I love Jessie. Nearly four years have passed and I can't help but envision a 4 year old girl parallel to thoughts of how long we have endured - and in some cases, almost not endured. I hope that her patience for me isn't wearing thin. This depression patch is thicker than I anticipated but I guess it's not so bad since I can still function.
On an unrelated note, apparently imitating grating farts helps my brother collect his thoughts as he struggles to remember the name of a video game featuring Sonic the Hedgehog. And people wonder why I'm as weird as I am. Some things, you're just born with.
You know that grainy heaviness that impregnates your eyelids so that every time you blink it feels like you're caressing your delicate ocular surfaces with nothing but the very best SANDPAPER? Yeah. Like butter. Or silk. With sharp sand granules hot glued to the surface. Only I think hot gluing sand grains to butter would be a physical impossibility. Or setting yourself up for epic failure.
I think it's shower then sleep time. Go me.
Started listening to Boys for Pele; ended listening to Baime from Tribal Sutras by TYA.