I’m working on about three and a half hours of sleep. Three and a half hours not at a stretch. My mind is muddled and even simple tasks seem insurmountable.
I want a snow day. On a week day. I want to wake up late because the power blinks off in the night so my alarm can’t go off. (But blinks right the fuck back on because I like heat and electricity.) I want to see blankets of snow so high that even in my bad ass, four-wheel drive SUV I will be unable to get to the office. I want to ignore everything that needs to be done at the house. (And I don’t want Catholic guilt fucking it up either.) I want to drink cups of coffee and read the newspaper. I want to watch DVR’d television shows I haven’t had time to watch. In my pajamas. I want to have bread and cheese and wine for lunch. I want to take a nap. I want to soak in the tub. I want to finish the book I started three weeks ago.
I want a snow day damn it; and I want it before I go bat shit.