Fact: From the point of view of my consciousness, falling asleep decreases the amount of time between now and tomorrow.
Fact: I don't want to go to class.
Extrapolation: In order to avoid bringing class nearer to me, I should avoid going to sleep.
It works, doesn't it? Right? Unfortunately, it also means there's no chance I'll "accidentally" sleep in. And if I'm already awake, I feel like I should go to class cuz anything else is stupid at that point. If I'm going to ditch, I should sleep in and get some use out of it, not decrease my general awareness and health by staying awake if all I'm going to do is stay in my dorm.
Speaking of staying awake, a couple of weeks ago Bob went 100 hours without sleep and got $100 dollars out of a bet for it. And ended up talking with me till three or four in the morning, but that's a different story. Actually, it isn't, but this isn't the right place to rant about it. Actually, mebbe it could be.... You know what? I'm going to stop here before I accidentally nullify any objections I might have to discussing too-early-in-the-morning discussions with insane people like Bob and myself.
On the plus side, though, the voices decided to shut up and let me stay awake all night without rebuke. Whoddathunk going without sleep would acctually make me slightly more normal?
~Paul
Welcome to Rubbish Bin #3. In my room, there is a small white trash can with the words “Rubbish Bin #2” on its side in permanent marker. Rubbish Bin #1 is a small decrepit blue notebook where I write stories, scenes, and half-baked ideas that never see the light of day.
Paul's Blog
Floating in cyberspace, you see the words "Rubbish Bin #3" hanging in neon purple letters. They melt and reform constantly.
There is a penguin here, walking around on the ice.
There is a pile of linguistic drivel on the floor.
Obvious Exits: North, East, Up, Panic
Floating in cyberspace, you see the words "Rubbish Bin #3" hanging in neon purple letters. They melt and reform constantly.
There is a penguin here, walking around on the ice.
There is a pile of linguistic drivel on the floor.
Obvious Exits: North, East, Up, Panic
About Me
- Paul
- Wonderland, United States
- Someone once told me I had an aura of cool intelligence. I wonder if he's ever looked at this blog.
22 comments:
Uh-oh....
*Gives Gadget a sidelong look* "I knew the 'guys and bets' thing would get him eventually...guys are weird."
"Golly, you can say that again, Maren."
No no, Bob was the one who was buying into bets. I was just talking to him during a time that happened to coincide with the time he was running a gauntlet of masochism.
Wow, my record is only like 50 hours. I'm impressed.
And Maren, you may think guys are weird, but which one of us is talking to Gadget- a cartoon chipmunk?
Paul- staying up all night only makes you normal until you crash, which in my experience leads to about a week of tiredness. So I would advise against it.
At least on a regular basis.
My Japanese teacher told us an old Japanese saying- if you get four hours of sleep, you will be succesful. So that's what I try to go by, but recently I've been getting around nine. It's really weird. You might try it sometime on a lark.
"And Maren, you may think guys are weird, but which one of us is talking to Gadget- a cartoon chipmunk?"
You know, to be honest, it didn't even occur to me that this sort of thing would count as odd.
Four hours, eh? That sounds about what I normally get, except that on weekends I try to get three times as much in one go so I bet that throws my pattern off a bit....
Gadget. Is. Not. A. Chipmunk! She's a mouse! Note picture...grumble.
"I've always wanted some squirrels as pets!"
"We're CHIPMUNKS!"
Chip is the one with the red nose, right?
*kidding! don't hurt me!*
That's it, I'm getting my plunger gun!
Lookout, Gadget's got a gun!
Har, har, har.
*kathunk!*
"Lookee, Gadget, I hit him on the forehead!"
*kathunk!*
"So did I! Gee, he looks funny with plungers on his forehead."
"Most people do, Gadget."
...
"Golly, I think we knocked him out. Did you do something to the plungers, Gadg?"
"Uhh...it wasn't supposed to do that, Maren."
"Gadget!"
"It's okay, it'll wear off momentarily."
And now I will stop treating this as a message board.
Ugh...
*stirs fitfully, causing the two plungers stuck to his head to wobble slightly*
"See, look! He's coming out of it, Maren. I said he would, right?"
"RiIght..."
"Hey, shouldn't we be getting to math class?"
"Oh crap. And then, on to the spring fling dance!" *cringe*`
*stops stirring fitfully*
"Wait! Oh no, he's lost it again! Quick Gadget, tell Chip and Monty to tell Puppy Dog to get lost; I've got to get him to the hospital!"
"Uh, Maren? Puppy Dog can't speak Chipmunk or Mouse-ese."
"Oh. Right. Well go tell Janeway to blast him with her phaser, then!"
"Okay..."
*muttering incoherently*
come along...you belong...feel the fizz of kookoo cola...
Urgh. Chipolte peppers in adobo sauce hurt bad. FYI, this is Gojuz. Hello to all those weirdos, retards, freaks, Koozbanians, and well, in general, Maren. JK. Maren's only one of those. Can you guess which? I can... I scared Maren. I stuck on sticky keys. (Maren can feel the fizz) :)
Ooh. No, I just feel the chipolte peppers.
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