wherefore Morpheus?
I'm going through the typical PMS/pre-finals insomnia. Goddamn, it's a bitch. I'm denied the one thing I relish the most in life - a good long lie-in. I got up and made focaccia on Sunday night for the love of Pete. Which takes 2 punchdowns and 3 hours to rise. Monday I knitted, Tuesday I writted, last night I fretted. Tonight's formula is semi-boring book about Catherine of Aragon+earplugs+bourbon. Maybe I'll pick up some melatonin, too.
Please to be firing off your suggested prescriptions.
Well. Did you try the diabetic coma? For example, a cupcake, two plastic glasses of wine, then switch to the spendy bar with classic Cuban cocktails (two) and then a glass of house red and some Freedom Fries. Oh, and you didn't eat the cupcake to begin with. You just looked at it. So you were drinking your dinner all along. And then drive home.
That ought to do it.
Posted by
The_Shadow |
10:44 PM
Once again you've struck that fine balance of making wish we hung out more and wondering if I should schedule an intervention.
Posted by
em |
1:55 PM
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