It is nine minutes to six as I am writing this.
Tonight, or rather last night since I doubt I am going back to sleep, has not been particularly great. Not that my interactions with others have been poor, but my dreams have been nightmares. The worst part is that I remember what I was dreaming about.
It is amazing where I draw the line in my dreams.
I'd wake up every few hours, stare at what was in my hand in half hope and half panic, attempt to shrug it off, and give sleep another shot. Needless to say, I am beyond the point of looking to sleep and what was in my hand is no longer a concern.
I have just made the most unsatisfactory breakfast I have made in a very, very long time.
Limits. That was what breakfast was about.
I do not normally push mine, although secretly I love to see how far I can go until I collapse in on myself. It is a good sort of exhaustion though.
Anyway, breakfast. I made a grilled ham and cheese sandwich that turned out burnt. Burnt is such a harsh word for it, maybe I will settle for too crispy. I also had a cup of flat Sierra Mist, despite the fact that I don't drink soda and my stomach is already protesting.
I ate the sandwich, which ended up too crispy because I was busy thinking about limits and how I have totally broken some of mine lately. That is worrisome to the point of paranoia on one hand, and liberating on the other. The soda was terrible, but I drank it to push down the monstrosity of a sandwich I made. Neither of these really matter though, because I ate them anyway, and while I was eating them I was much too busy mentally somewhere else to notice exactly how bad everything tasted.
Could I eat what I made? Oh yes, I could and did. It was delightfully awful.
So, now my stomach hurts. My favorite time of day that nature has to offer is still some time away. I am left wanting, or maybe it is not wanting so much as missing, a lot of things or possibly just a few really important things. Maybe a decent breakfast, maybe for time to move faster, maybe something else.
Who knows? It's not really something I plan to question this early. I'll leave it for tomorrow night's sleepless adventure.
Tonight, or rather last night since I doubt I am going back to sleep, has not been particularly great. Not that my interactions with others have been poor, but my dreams have been nightmares. The worst part is that I remember what I was dreaming about.
It is amazing where I draw the line in my dreams.
I'd wake up every few hours, stare at what was in my hand in half hope and half panic, attempt to shrug it off, and give sleep another shot. Needless to say, I am beyond the point of looking to sleep and what was in my hand is no longer a concern.
I have just made the most unsatisfactory breakfast I have made in a very, very long time.
Limits. That was what breakfast was about.
I do not normally push mine, although secretly I love to see how far I can go until I collapse in on myself. It is a good sort of exhaustion though.
Anyway, breakfast. I made a grilled ham and cheese sandwich that turned out burnt. Burnt is such a harsh word for it, maybe I will settle for too crispy. I also had a cup of flat Sierra Mist, despite the fact that I don't drink soda and my stomach is already protesting.
I ate the sandwich, which ended up too crispy because I was busy thinking about limits and how I have totally broken some of mine lately. That is worrisome to the point of paranoia on one hand, and liberating on the other. The soda was terrible, but I drank it to push down the monstrosity of a sandwich I made. Neither of these really matter though, because I ate them anyway, and while I was eating them I was much too busy mentally somewhere else to notice exactly how bad everything tasted.
Could I eat what I made? Oh yes, I could and did. It was delightfully awful.
So, now my stomach hurts. My favorite time of day that nature has to offer is still some time away. I am left wanting, or maybe it is not wanting so much as missing, a lot of things or possibly just a few really important things. Maybe a decent breakfast, maybe for time to move faster, maybe something else.
Who knows? It's not really something I plan to question this early. I'll leave it for tomorrow night's sleepless adventure.
