Do I feel like a goof. Relief that I had not in fact
slept through my first class of the summer term as reported
two days ago; instead making it to
school on
as close to no sleep as matters (after a night of
"serious endeavours"-insomnia, not even slowed by an attempted midnight
carbohydrate knockout) to discover that my class was not in the room I thought it was. Some cursory research provided the facts:
The place was right, but I was a month and a half early for this particular class.
Relief at not having gotten off on the wrong foot after all. Relief at being able to go back home and actually get some winks before the TabNet video night tonight. But serious ambiguity about the sincerity of my renewed academic earnestness - how serious can I be about my school-career if I can't even be bothered to get the month right?
...
Anyhow, on the walk home a street person at Hastings and Main, finding some offense in my typical soulful grimace, commanded me to Smile! I had no choice but to respect their authority and break out beaming.
Mental note: next time some sleep is absolutely required, do not try counting sheep unless you fancy a play-by-play mental review of the entirety of Loom, which is always a good thing, but still a far cry from sleep.
It's not just me! The narrator of The Horla is also afraid of sleep and afraid of his bed! Won't my roommates be surprised when I burn down the house! Tee hee...
in our last episode... | p_i-logs | and then, all of a sudden...