I have nothing incredibly important to say at the moment, but I need to write. I feel like a shark; I need to keep moving, because if I stop, I won't be starting up again anytime soon. Thing is, I've been awake for three days with a running total of, if I'm generous, 5 hours of sleep. Maybe 6 if you count all the 10-15 minute naps I've taken, but I'm not even sure if I was sleeping, I only know that I have no memory for those blocks of time, I just stood staring off into space, which is something no boss likes to see. Why would I do such a thing as stay awake for 3 days, you may ask? Well, my work schedule is late night/early morning, and the time I would normally spend sleeping has been taken up by community service as I squeeze as much in as possible to meet my quickly approaching deadline.
I'm actually feeling pretty damn good. There comes a time in sleep deprivation when you reach a point of exhaustion where your synapses are all firing at once, you're wired and in tune with everything and your making all the connections at light speed. Go past that and you enter a more normal period of exhaustion. Your eyes itch and your muscles ache. Go past that and you'll be where I am now. I feel like smooth, warm molasses. I'm not moving quickly, but I'm going at a pace that feels entirely comfortable and appropriate. Following gravity down the hill. This will probably wear off halfway through our broadcast this morning, because when this period is over, there's no prolonging it.
I could have slept last night(this night? whatever), but I went to see the new Harry Potter. I don't have much to say about it, so don't worry about any spoilers here. I enjoyed it, not quite as much as part three, but still quite a bit. At times it felt a bit perfunctory, like it had less a narrative and more a desire to hit the right buttons. Still, it was nowhere near as slavish as the first two. In the midst of this sleep deprived state I went to a midnight premiere where I surrounded myself with teens(and adults, to be fair) dressed out in their favorite house colors. A place where a random woman in a black cloak and white makeup rushes out of the crowd, thrusts her wand in my face, and commands I pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord lest I suffer the Cruciata(sp?) curse. I'm almost positive I didn't imagine that.
The reason I'm feeling fine, aside from the body-chemistry high I'm on, is because I am now finally done with community service. No more slaving away in some random park digging trenches and carrying 60lb bricks across the field. No more listening to Bill O'Reilly or Rush Limbaugh or whatever neo-con fuckwit the community service supervisors are listening to. It's all done with. When I leave work this morning, I will not be going to the CWS office. The sun will be up on the ride home, and I'll have a nice soft bed waiting for me. Pure heaven. I have much to be thankful for.
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