Screws Come Loose
You'd think a 05:30 wakeup and a three and a half mile walk yesterday would have exhausted me sufficiently, so as to guarantee a night spent in near comatose sleep. At least, I assumed as much; I was incorrect.
I woke early this morning. I figured that it was probably around 04:00 or so, maybe later; I decided to stay in bed and attempt to go back to sleep. After trying relaxation, breathing techniques, and counting the ticks of one of my clocks, I finally got up and checked the time on my alarm clock.
03:16. Bollocks.
I got back in bed, and tried again, realizing that I had sufficient time to spend tossing and turning, and would probably fall back asleep long before my (now-set) alarm would go off. Finally, figuring it must be after 04:00 at least, I checked the clock again.
03:48. Bollocks.
So, figuring that I could at least get something done, I got up and turned on the computer and the television. They were talking about favorite movies on Fox and Friends; not a problem, but not what I'm interested in listening to as background noise when I'm frustrated with life and can't sleep. I turned that off, checked a couple of websites, and then decided on a relaxation exercise that requires some exertion, but usually works better than concentrating on progressive muscle relaxation, counting clock ticks, or focusing my breathing. Once it was done, I turned on my Gregorian chant CD again; I eventually fell asleep, after the CD had ended, which must have placed it at least beyond 04:45. When my alarm went off at 06:00, 06:30, and 07:00, I reset it each time for half an hour later. Finally, at 07:30, my brain told me something about needing to get up to go serve pancakes or something (April will like that one) and I finally got up. That was forty minutes ago.
Interestingly enough, between 06:30 and 07:00, I had a fascinating dream in which I was at the office building occupied by The CCE*. I didn't see The CCE*, but I saw Michelle in an elevator. Then, as I was walking, I met up with a girl who I'll call Brianna. Brianna was a couple of years ahead of me in high school, and her sister and I were classmates. Early on in high school, I was part of the group that Brianna belonged to, and remained in that group as it changed over the years to eventually include her sister, who I'll call Angela, after Brianna had graduated. At any rate, Brianna was pushing me through the building, reminding me of the last time that I'd called her, which had apparently been on the first day of that particular job in that particular building; I want to make it clear right now that I have never spoken to Brianna on the phone at all, and even if I had, it would have been in high school, within the phone network of the high school. Back in the dream, as Brianna was pushing me through the halls of the building, we were basically discussing that she was going to take me somewhere in the building, and she was going to score with me.
It's now 08:21 on the second day of the week. I'm listening to the original release by Lifehouse, which came out during my freshman year of high school while I was working at the CD store, lamenting that the best legitimate offer of scandalous sexual action I've gotten in months was in a dream about a girl who was two or three years ahead of me in high school. I haven't met a girl in months, I'm mostly jobless, and I'm not accomplishing much beyond watching the entire run of Sports Night in roughly a week and a half, which I am sixteen episodes from accomplishing.
I am the Fly. I call this Tuesday.
UPDATE: I meant to say this earlier, but lost track of myself. The asterisk (*) after CCE was meant to lead to a note differentiating CCE from CCG. You have been notified.
I woke early this morning. I figured that it was probably around 04:00 or so, maybe later; I decided to stay in bed and attempt to go back to sleep. After trying relaxation, breathing techniques, and counting the ticks of one of my clocks, I finally got up and checked the time on my alarm clock.
03:16. Bollocks.
I got back in bed, and tried again, realizing that I had sufficient time to spend tossing and turning, and would probably fall back asleep long before my (now-set) alarm would go off. Finally, figuring it must be after 04:00 at least, I checked the clock again.
03:48. Bollocks.
So, figuring that I could at least get something done, I got up and turned on the computer and the television. They were talking about favorite movies on Fox and Friends; not a problem, but not what I'm interested in listening to as background noise when I'm frustrated with life and can't sleep. I turned that off, checked a couple of websites, and then decided on a relaxation exercise that requires some exertion, but usually works better than concentrating on progressive muscle relaxation, counting clock ticks, or focusing my breathing. Once it was done, I turned on my Gregorian chant CD again; I eventually fell asleep, after the CD had ended, which must have placed it at least beyond 04:45. When my alarm went off at 06:00, 06:30, and 07:00, I reset it each time for half an hour later. Finally, at 07:30, my brain told me something about needing to get up to go serve pancakes or something (April will like that one) and I finally got up. That was forty minutes ago.
Interestingly enough, between 06:30 and 07:00, I had a fascinating dream in which I was at the office building occupied by The CCE*. I didn't see The CCE*, but I saw Michelle in an elevator. Then, as I was walking, I met up with a girl who I'll call Brianna. Brianna was a couple of years ahead of me in high school, and her sister and I were classmates. Early on in high school, I was part of the group that Brianna belonged to, and remained in that group as it changed over the years to eventually include her sister, who I'll call Angela, after Brianna had graduated. At any rate, Brianna was pushing me through the building, reminding me of the last time that I'd called her, which had apparently been on the first day of that particular job in that particular building; I want to make it clear right now that I have never spoken to Brianna on the phone at all, and even if I had, it would have been in high school, within the phone network of the high school. Back in the dream, as Brianna was pushing me through the halls of the building, we were basically discussing that she was going to take me somewhere in the building, and she was going to score with me.
It's now 08:21 on the second day of the week. I'm listening to the original release by Lifehouse, which came out during my freshman year of high school while I was working at the CD store, lamenting that the best legitimate offer of scandalous sexual action I've gotten in months was in a dream about a girl who was two or three years ahead of me in high school. I haven't met a girl in months, I'm mostly jobless, and I'm not accomplishing much beyond watching the entire run of Sports Night in roughly a week and a half, which I am sixteen episodes from accomplishing.
I am the Fly. I call this Tuesday.
UPDATE: I meant to say this earlier, but lost track of myself. The asterisk (*) after CCE was meant to lead to a note differentiating CCE from CCG. You have been notified.
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