From the hours of 6 to 8 I sleep.  I hatessss it.  Not sure when the exhaustion started, but it’s killing me.  I’m braindead into the evening, and I have trouble falling asleep.  It’s partly the waking up early to teach thing, which is GOOD, because at least I’m not braindead in class.  Perhaps I need to drink more coffee?

In happy news, Dr. Why appears to be back.  Oh, how I’ve missed you!

Also, I signed up to have an essay workshopped this week, in Luis Urrea’s class.  I am terrified, besides the feeling rather dumb part.  I so want to impress him, want to write something really brilliant…and of course my big mouth opens and out pops the stupid.  “I’ll go this week,” I say.  I don’t have a draft.  I have a note-scramble, runny with a side of toast.  Of the funeral scene.  So it’s confessional AND disorganized, everybody’s fav.  Boo, me.  Boo.

That said, if not now, when?  Or, if not now, maybe right after my scheduled evening nap…


One thought on “Narcolepsy.

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