raybear | Terence, This Is Stupid Stuff

As an emotional junkie in recovery, I'm struggling a little this afternoon with not trying to take on too much of someone else's life right now and future-tripping. I'm doing a less than adequate job at it, but it could be worse I suppose. I think it helps that I have my own personal bits to future-trip on, that are only tangentially related.

I'm planning on writing my grad school admissions essay on the phenomenon of livejournal and how it's influenced me as a writer. This is either suicide or brilliance. I'm hoping for the latter.

My brain hurts. I can feel the muscles on my head relaxing in this strange way, pushing down towards my forehead and making my eyes droopy. I want to sleep and sleep and sleep and it's not just avoidance sleep that I sometimes get -- I think I'm still a bit deprived from my busy weekend and late nights and lack of napping. Of course, it's not always for lack of trying. I have this fear that I've lost my ability to nap because when I lie down, my body will only relax up to a point. I drift near sleep, but never quite teeter over the edge. Sometimes this is relaxing and rejuvenating in a different way. A "lie-down", if you will. Other times it's infuriating and frustrating.

Though I seem to have no problem falling asleep on the train on the way home. Maybe I'll just ride the brown line back and forth a couple times before going home. I'm like a baby who needs to ride in the minivan at bedtime.

Ooooh, Damon called!