Some of the lovely inner thoughts I was greeted with upon waking up after a fourteen hour sleep all followed the same trend.
You know, I really should’ve gotten more sleep the night before. Sure, I was able to complete all of those tasks I mentioned in a previous post with relative ease after the caffeine kicked in, but by the end of the day I had been reduced to a yabbering yahoo who’s effort to try and scream “Hey, I’m awake!” was met with more people telling me to just get an early night. REM rebound hits hard, too. I can’t even begin to describe how darn odd it was to be faced with multiple downright bizarre dreams that I can sort of recollect. I must’ve been so horribly dysfunctional by the end of last night that my attempt to write about the hole in my life that OS X Yosemite has left me had gone without a proper editing stage. I remember, I do, reading it over but despite all of the typos, my tired self must’ve just said “Yup, that’s fine!” like a dismissive teacher who isn’t all there being handed a student practice essay to go over. You know the drill, folks. She’ll tell you it’s ok and then when the ugly face of the actual assessment date shows up, it’s anything but.
And I was definitely anything but ok last night.
I can’t tell you how darn grueling it was to try and get to sleep as this completely spent wreck only to be met with what appeared to be some silly subconscious resistance to just stay within the land of the waking. It got to the point where I actually had to set up my phone to play an hour long loop of Tibetan wind chimes and metal pipe noises just so that I had some calming atmospheric background noise to tune in on rather than letting the old thought box run wild with undulating imagination. My body runs on a power source that is the equivalent to a lemon hooked up to circuit but when it comes to my mind, my imagination specifically, the damn thing seems to be driven by plutonium.
So don’t puncture my head, folks. We don’t need another incident like Chernobyl.