January 31st, 2003

sleeping

And then odd things started happening.

Not big ones. Just enough to be noticeable.

Yesterday, walking home through fat fluffy flakes, I thought the gods must be having a pillow fight.

Moira wrote about wanting a prozac mug. It triggered fond nostalgia for the zyprexa pens I got when my father died. Not a terribly valuable inheritence, but useful and all. They were purple and had thick black ink inside. I was all about them, but somehow managed to lose them all over time. I'm good at losing things. So I googled for "zyprexa pen", expecting to find nothing. Moira's search for "zoloft mug" had yielded nothing, after all. But no! There was a result! And what it led to was unexpected in any case. (scroll down to Seyenaidni's bio for pertinent details) Kind of puts me in mind of my first college roommate. But the zyprexa pens weren't fountain...

David and I were talking about kids while Kyaa and I were talking about Harris Burdick stories. I got this in one window and confused it for part of the other conversation:
yeah, I just think I do want one, but like my own, not like someone else's that I pretend is mine, ya know?
I was going to argue that you make it your own, it's just going off of someone else's seed of inspiration... then I realized he meant he didn't want to adopt. And then I thought in some way, my argument could still be valid. But I'm not sure if I support it or not. Have to think. Or do I? Is this an issue I care about? Am too tired to sort it out just now.

I was thinking I might finish my own Harris Burdick story today. "The Seven Chairs". It seems about time.

I told Moss, "Tomorrow, you may receive a call from a pencil." Oh, sleeptalking. Always such a source of amusement. The scary thing was that was just before an interview at the engineering school where I will be teaching classes on Friday afternoons. I dragged myself out to it despite the fact that I could not keep myself awake on the telephone. I don't think i have ever been so tired in my life. I thought I might pass out. I slept for 20 hours when I got home. Forwent food because I was certain I wouldn't be able to abstain from sleep while cooking. Today I am still exhausted, but I thought I ought to stay up and try to regain some semblance of a sane sleep pattern. Is five now. Will go home by eight. Will eat, then sleep, then grade homework in a frenzy of productive chaos. Will not put it off any longer. Really, won't, swear.
  • Current Music
    Suede - "Sleeping Pills"