On My Own Here We Go

A couple of nights ago, I thought I had insomnia, so I got up, killed a little time trying to get a game running on the PC, failed, and went back to bed. It turns out that instead of insomnia, I was just having a little trouble sleeping that night.

Now last night, I had insomnia.

Laying awake in bed still after almost two hours, I finally got up. I had a monster headache, so reading was out, and I was afraid to play video games because I lose track of time when I do that, so I flipped through the channels, not watching anything. I would absorb a five minute snippet of a bad movie (apparently Paul Rudd was in a Halloween sequel - huh), another five minutes of some cartoon (I still don't get Aqua Teen Hunger Force), five minutes of an even worse movie (if it stars Lou Diamond Phillips and isn't Young Guns, just keep moving), etc.

So yeah, I'm a little ball of joyous sunshine today. At least I've moved beyond the hideously cranky level of exhaustion I'm usually at by now. Nope, I'm all the way into the much preferred slightly-giddy stages. It's a little like being under the influence, but without any of the harsh repercussions. Well, as long as I don't nod off at my desk anyway.

See, that's the catch - I have a job where thinking is involved, and I'm now so entrenched into this project that the thinking is not just involved, it's expected. I have to constantly work with a second or third person, so just sitting back and writing monkey code while listening to my headphones is out. I'm expected to be brilliant, dammit.

Hopefully I can fake my way through the rest of day without having to drain too many more pots of coffee. I'm starting to reach dangerous levels here. Just a minute ago I felt an uncontrollable urge to shave off everything but a mustache, get a sombrero and poncho, and wander through the woods with a donkey carrying a sack of coffee beans.

Ah hell, who am I kidding. I always have that urge.