9.19.99 - 23:36:15
Usually when I sit down to write these things, I think back over the last few days and try to remember an event or thought that particularly amused me, startled me or sent me spiraling into some sort of medical obsession (which can be entertaining in hindsight). Unfortunately, I can't think of a goddamned thing. I've been decidedly unamused as of late, and it's not just the metaphorical Olympic hangover either.
I'm tired. The kind of tired that lodges itself into your bones and makes even blinking a nearly impossible endeavor (it's hard to follow the downstroke with the upstroke). Being this tired makes me a generally humorless person and more than a little disinclined to partake in the Internet Diary experience for obvious reasons.
Insomnia has happened to me before and I know the routine. Once humor vacates the premises, intellectual capacity shortly follows. After that, I become increasingly insulting and generally wander about saying f*** a lot. I am verbally rude to the mildly retarded and handicapped people who bag my groceries too slowly, steal my seat on the train even though I pushed them a little bit, or otherwise get in my way on a daily basis. I am snappish to family, friends and co-workers alike--my sleep deprivation knows no favorites. Simply put, I grow short-tempered and mean.
You might be saying to yourself right about now, should you be the sort of individual who speaks to yourself while reading particularly insipid Diaryland entries, "What are you telling ME for? Get off the computer and get some sleep, Pinch."
I would if I could but I can't, you moron. I have to let it run its course. The only cure I've ever found for insomnia is a regular bedtime. No amount of drinking, meditating or voodoo chanting is going to make it go away. And if you weren't such a halfwit, you'd know that.
NOW, you might be saying to yourself, should you be the type of person who not only starts, but continues a dialog with a fucking computer monitor, "Gee, Pinch, I was just asking. I don't think that tone was called for." To which I'd reply, "I'll call the goddamned tone around here, dickweed, and if you don't like it, there's a Back button conveniently located at the upper left corner of your browser. USE IT!"
You might even be the sort of complete and utter asshole who is intentionally baiting me, trying to get my goat, by following with something like, "Pinch, I just came in here because you're sort of my invisible internet friend. I didn't mean to start anything. I'm sorry. I hope you get some sleep soon--I hate to see you feel so badly."
Well that's just FINE you stinking manipulative cretin! MAKE ME LOOK BAD IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE FUCKING INTERNET WHY DON'T YOU!!!!!1
See what I mean?
Notified readers know exactly what happened right after the above entry was posted. They have a secret decoder ring.
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Vg pnzr jvgu n cbfgpneq. V CENL GUVF TVSG URYCF LBH SVAQ ERYRVS SEBZ LBHE NSSYVPGVBA. LBHE FZBXR-SERR CYN, QNIVQU.
Guvf vfa'g gur svefg vgrz V'ir erprvirq sebz gur zlfgrevbhf Qnivq U jvgu gur puvyqvfu unaqjevgvat, ohg vg pregnvayl jnf gvzryl. Vg nzhfrq guvf penaxl, fyrrcl ngurvfg irel zhpu.
