It’s 1:15am, I’m even kind of tired, but I cannot fall asleep. It’s like I’ve drunk a pot of espresso without the thrill of, you know, actually trying to down that much coffee. I don’t have an account on WoW (if you’re going to be up at this hour, at least make it count, right?). I can’t write—I was kind of hoping I’d have a dream tonight that would help me past my current plot problem.
Ugh. I don’t even have any good munchies around here. What did I do to deserve this?
Tuesday morning: Ugh. Last night was a recent minima for me: at the very most I got three hours, and I’m pretty sure it was two or fewer.
Tuesday evening: Darin comes home tonight with not one but two pints of Godiva Belgian Dark Chocolate ice cream (the best bar-none mass market chocolate ice cream out there). He said, “I read on your blog you didn’t have any munchies last night and that’s not right.” I love this man.
Hey– insomnia and espresso. We have much in common.