It seems pretentious, if nothing else, to make an allusion to my own body of "work," but I think simply acknowledging that fact gives me immunity. I am, of course, referring to the title of this post, and to Survivor.
What I am getting at is this: I am tired. I am always tired. This wasn't always the case. There was a time, back in '84, when I didn't exist. Then last semester I drank three Mountain Dews in one night because they were free, and because they were good and I had just remembered.
Okay, so maybe my situation is a little more realistic than that. But here is the deal: I haven't slept past 6:30 (anti-meridian, which I have recently become, by the way) since last Friday. I probably know why that is the case, but I don't want to say because you will make fun of me.
I hope this morning was the climactic event, because I woke up at 5:38, which is apparently a great time to purchase shoes. Who knew?
Maybe I should get a Select Comfort Sleep Number bed. I doubt they come in twin size, but I guess I could always send in for the free video. Maybe that would help me sleep. Maybe if I stopped writing this and got back to my homework I could get some extra sleep tonight.
I believe it was Garth Algar who said "Yeah... and monkeys might fly out of my butt."
p.s. Don't ever Google search "butt." It wasn't worth it.
3 comments:
RE: 5:38
OK, but those are some CUTE Jimmy Choos.
I'm sure I wouldn't know.
the butt paste is made in Baton Rouge, LA. my family is from baton rouge/ new orleans area (which, i'm sure, you recollect). i usually get butt paste as a stocking-stuffer, and at the least, there is always some on hand at my grandma's house. just thought you should know my history with boudreaux.
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