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if you could buy sleep, i’d pawn my testicles to get a good eight hours
26/11/01 @ 11:42 p.m.
I hate sleep right now. The last few nights I’ve not been falling asleep until five or six in the morning, and then sticking to the usual routine of waking up all through the night. It’s just irritating, because I fall for the same trick every time – I wake up, look at the clock in the hope I’ve slept for a solid eight hours, and then find it’s been twenty minutes since I last looked at it. And there’s something immoral about having breakfast at two in the afternoon. And people never tell you how boring illness is. I figured the pain would be painful, the tiredness would be tiring, but the extent of the boredom didn’t occur to me. I can’t do anything but kill time ‘til I go back to sleep and it’s dull as fuck. Like today, I wanted to watch Buffy and go buy some Christmas presents, which are low-rent ambitions anyway, but without sleep it’s not worth even thinking about it. Can’t watch Buffy, can’t buy presents, and can’t write a decent entry. But you knew that already.
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