Today, I’m bushed. I’m so tired, I’ve resorted to coffee (I rarely drink the stuff, it sends my tummy on a tour of the great basin and range province, up down, up down: not pleasant). Of course, like every person who has kids, I’m going to blame the kid. See, she just got her first bed where she can actually get out of it in the middle of the night, and she’s abusing this new privilege and waking me up 5 or 6 times a night.
For four nights now, I’ve been getting the kind of sleep people in sleep studies are subjected to. Sleep for an hour, then fill out this worksheet based on your feelings. Now we’ll wait for you to actually fall into REM sleep before waking you up to fill it out again and compare the two.
Yeah, maybe my daughter secretly works for the Sleep Institute.
Being so tired, I started thinking about whether I should write or not today, you know, because I’m extra dumb with so little sleep. Then I realized just how stupid that sounded. I’m tired, yes. My work will be substandard today, yes (I think maybe even out at three sigma, frankly), but that’s no excuse not to delve into my favorite pastime of all: Creating, and writing specifically.
The funny thing is that the world is strangely connected (more on the divination powers of blogger in some other post), because I checked Blogger, and got treated to the NSFW post by Chuck about writing (courtesy of The Shark herself). And Chuck made me laugh. It was a post about quitting writing, and at first I thought he’d nail me on the head for even thinking about quitting, or any other number of silly things that I think. Nope, the more I read his post, the more I was completely galvanized to go write more. Check it out.
Now, back to work, because posting is just a form of productive seeming procrastination.