Gosh, What Am I Talking About? Stop It, Me.

i am having extreme difficulty keeping my eyes open today. Xtreme. Xgames Xtreme. there should be competitions for who can fall asleep while engaged in another activity that requires being awake. perhaps in a halfpipe, if it came to that. i would win. by a landslide. my REM would be off the charts. as i was telling someone the other day, i think i only have about 4 hours of a true wake-state per day. the rest is spent flitting between dozy hazy reality and the subconscious. it's sick. it's like genital herpes on your forehead. everyone knows. no one wants to say anything. people point and laugh, sure. but i really can't control it. i'm on the verge of sleep most of the time. my auto-pilot is "on the verge of a long winter's nap." i don't care if it's summer, you literalists, i'm trying to make a point.


not to differentiate myself from the masses because i know that's a crime in 48 states, but i really have some horrific uberreliance on sleep. i hate using the prefix uber but i had to, please look past it. people dread when they have a late night because they don't want to go to work the next day because they're so tired. that's me. that's everybody. that's joe your neighbor. that's the poodle pixie. that's the plumber trina. it seems so normal, but BUT BUUTT wait, it's not the same. i can't function today, or really ever, when i have less than 8 hours of sleep. as the hours decrease, the symptoms get drastically worse. i am useless as a human being or even as an inanimate object. i can't even think to the end of my thoughts. even while drinking triple vanilla lattes. i can't focus. i forget things. i forget names. i forget social cues. i talk to myself far more than the usual. and the whole world seems to operate in slow motion. i feel abnormal. but this is my normal self. i can't process how to open doors. how to drive. there's a bubble wrap wall between me and my brain. and i'm too consumed in popping the bubbles to make any sort of positive contribution to cognition.


today the other occupant in my cube is here. in fact, she's sitting all of one foot away. and here i am, typing about her. what are you going to do? what is she going to do? let me answer everyone's questions. nothing. no one's doing anything about my social crudeness. she pulled the phone over to her side. i don't really know what need there was to do that. someone already called for me so it's been established it's a mutual phone. i wonder what would happen if i slowly started jerking the phone cord over back to my side, using my toes, bringing the phone along with it. would that qualify as "bringing it"? would she then do a cheerleading routine in my face and then snap her fingers at me as if to say "that's what i thought" and walk away? would i walk away after that, or would i try and start a fight? at what point would i fall asleep? would someone have to tell me later what happened?


what a ridiculous schpiel about my problems. i went to an open mike yesterday. and didn't do so hot. i don't really understand how to outheckle hecklers. i usually just try and talk to them. talk it out. let's talk this out. they usually don't want to explain themselves. i don't even want to make fun of them. i want to understand. it's very frustrating. i want to hear their complaints so i can serve them better. it's an open forum policy. i wonder if hecklers wake up in the morning thinking "today, i'm going to heckle. and heckle good." i wonder if they have a set list of heckles in their pocket. the good ones do it off-the-cuff though.

i can't tell who's the heckler here...

best form of writing rejection, as of yet:

thanks, but we're going to pass on your submission.

(as in...we had a nice hearty meal of deliciously prepared submissions, we're going to pass on dessert)

who skips dessert? i don't want any part of that world. good one, ego! high-five!