Heh. Guess I really*do* need sleep.

Around 8:40, I turned off the lights in the living room and curled up on the couch to sleep for a little while. Aubrey's class ended at 9, so I figured I had about half an hour to nap before she returned home and woke me up, and I could figure out then whether I was awake enough to get some work done, or whether I was a lost cause for the night and should just go to bed and get an assload of sleep.

Problem is, it's now 12:00, Aubrey still hasn't come home from class, and I just woke up half an hour ago.

Oops.

On the upside, I ate a handful of ritz chips right after I woke up, and just had a little more milk and soup and english muffin, despite the fact that everything is now room temperature. Maybe I'll be able to coax my body into accepting a slightly more reasonable amount of food before I go to bed for real.

I wish someone had a copy of Bowling For Columbine I could borrow. I need to watch it for my Criminology paper, and doing that tonight would be a nice way to do something that needs to be done without having to, like, use my brain, but I have no particular urge to walk my ass over to the course reserves so that I can be stuck in the library for two hours watching it, so I guess I'll just have to wait. If Josh the Slacker Thesis Seminar Prof would e-mail me some damn draft comments (which he was supposed to do over the weekend, and then swore he'd do today, and he does realize that our 30 page drafts are due on Thursday, right?) I could at least read over those and start making notes for myself, but... alas.

*ponder*

It seems vaguely possible that I have no choice but to watch TV.

Ah, sweet sanity.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who kindly pointed out that it is, in fact, spelled bocce. See, I told you my language skills are b0rked tonight. I've had to proofread each update today about 3 times before I hit send.

Beware the Chainsaw of Natural Selection!

I've adopted a blob. His name is Curly.


Sleep is good. Despite the fact that it took me FOREVER to go to sleep last night since I went to bed only a few hours after the 3 hour napcoma, despite the fact that I woke up this morning with my entire arm completely numb from sleeping on it funny, despite the fact that I still haven't been able to make myself eat anything, despite the prospect of 40-something more pages to write and two finals before I can officially declare this semester dead...

Sleep is still good.

I need to get dressed and go buy my thesis advisor's daughter a Hanukah present, which my mom said was the best gesture of thanks for the gift basket.

It just took me waaaaay too long to make sure that that is an acceptable way to spell Hanukah.

Um. I got nothing today, folks.

Well, except this.

Grmph.

Groggy and out of it.

And very, very hungry.

Since Monday night around 1AM, I've eaten:

About 2/3 of a Jimmy John's chocolate chunk cookie
A candy cane
About 3/4 of a bottle of Dr. Pepper
Maybe a third of a mug of tomato soup
A little more than half an english muffin
A glass of milk
A few sips of white grape juice and club soda
A sip of orange juice
Some ritz chips
Water

I'm honestly a little surprised I haven't passed out.

I don't know what's wrong with me--I'm spacey and zoned out from hunger, I've got a headache, my stomach is Not Happy... but the thought of food, any food besides water, makes me nauseous. I'm not sick, I finally got a decent night's sleep and a reprieve in my Enlightenment class, which means I'm not as stressed anymore... so what the heck is going on?

The spaciness is making it really hard to focus, and I have to write an intro and do some serious polishing on my thesis before I turn in the draft by noon tomorrow.

EDIT: Okay, I talked to Becca, and she and Eriko invited me to dinner and are going to make me eat. In the meantime, I think I'm going to attempt a granola bar. Readysetgo.

I think my brain is on strike.

All I need is a sentence. One freaking opening sentence to get me rolling, and I'll be fine. 5 or so pages of introduction and another couple pages of revision and expansion should not be this hard, not when I know what I want to say already.

I just... can't figure out how to start the fucker.

Grawr.

(Operation: Granola Bar was successful, though it took me almost half an hour to get through the whole thing. In any case, my stomach now feels slightly less like it's attempting to consume itself, and Eriko's meeting me in 35 minutes for dinner. Maybe my brain has finally decided that starving me isn't a very effective way of getting what it wants.)

Wow. So that's what it's like to be full. I'd nearly forgotten.

Mmmm, ginger and tuna and miso soup.

Ladies and gentlemen, you may rest easy: I have now eaten a meal like a normal human being.

And now: thesis. 6 pages. I can do this.

*stares at monitor for a while*

*gives up and wanders over to weather.com, checks the weather in Key West right now*

Seventy freaking two degrees.

And I can only go if I get everything done on time.

*gets back to work*

Booyah.

I've found the elusive first sentence.

"Fantasy--and all fiction is fantasy of one kind or another--is a mirror. A Distorting mirror, to be sure, and a concealing mirror, set at forty-five degrees to reality, but it's a mirror nonetleless which we can use to tell ourselves things we might not otherwise see." --Neil Gaiman, my #1 literary boyfriend, in the introduction to Smoke and Mirrors

The best part? I found this quote by doing a google search for "neil gaiman fantasy quote," thinking I might find something interesting by him about the uses of fantasy or whatever. Imagine my surprise when I learned that it's from Smoke and Mirrors, a book I just happened to have in my backpack today--I wanted to have Lisa read "Snow, Glass, Apples" after we'd talked about modern retellings of fairy tales and I learned that she hadn't read it.

So. Yay serendipity.

Anyway, now that it's taken me a completely obscene amount of time to find my stunning opener, I must now scrabble for lost time to get everything done. So why am I wasting time on LJ, you ask?

I don't know.