I should have gone to bed before midnight.

I actually tried to go to bed 20 minutes ago.

Sleep and I are not friends right now tonight.

There are things I want to do. My brain is busy. My financial situation is less dire than I thought it was, by orders of magnitude. Living in another state and with a roommate whose parents are less financially well-off than our own household makes one underestimate some things.

I think I can actually afford to, on our next day off when the timing is right, take marxdarx to the eye place where he last got glasses and get both of us an eye exam and new glasses. This is nothing short of amazing.

So I'm trying to plan the logistics of that, work in the morning, and the like, and I'm coming up blank on sleep. I was running off four hours' sleep my last day in Alaska and then on the flight between Fairbanks and Seattle. This does not make for good sleep things. So I'm evidently not sleeping yet.

That, and I'm hungry.

A combination of lousy scheduling and smoke inhalation aftereffects made me decide to call in sick for Friday.

I still have not much of a voice, but with careful consumption of cough drops, decongestants, and liquids, I ought to have enough of one by 8:30 am Saturday.

"My girlfriend's computer is faster than your computer."