Oh, yeah...I forgot I had one of these Internet journal things. Huh. If I remember correctly, I'm supposed to write about my day and then maybe discuss some sort of brain/heart activity that's confusing/disturbing/frustrating/whatever, right?

I'll see what I can do.

First, I made it 42 hours without sleep. And I still had to chemically force my eyes to close. It was pretty neat. Wait. No, it wasn't.

I started to get pretty fucking crazy towards the end of it, though. At first, I was with people at the diner and they were plotting stuff. So that was cool. (A note- If you add the phrase "go-go" to anything, I will automatically consider it a great idea and do it. Go forth and abuse that knowledge.)

Then I came home and stayed up until 4 as my mind raced in a million directions at once. Apparently, I figured out something very freaky involving cycles and coincidences. I can't remember all of it, though. So that means I can't tell you all about it here. Bummer.

What else? What else?

Yesterday, I spent eight hours on my feet, serving 1200 people. To say we are short-staffed at the library would be an obscene understatement. I really don't want to start talking about that, though, and will just take comfort in the fact that my next few paychecks will be fucking fat.

So, yeah. There really isn't any direct correlation between work and me getting pretty drunk last night, so stop looking for it. You'll just frustrate yourself.

Dude, I totally forgot that I have Airheads. Why the fuck am I not eating Airheads right now?

Anyway, I'm pretty sure I have a million and one things I could write about tonight, but I'm drawing a blank. Like, I know I'm going to Cocoa Beach this weekend and there's a Beach Day tomorrow and, according to May, the attractive son of a Frenchman waved at me, but I just scurried away. I could talk about all that. But I won't. No reason, really. Just don't feel like it.

There's a tropical storm warning right now and it's pretty fucking boring. I'm feeling let down at the moment and maybe that's why I can't seem to write that much about the past five? six? days. Weather changes moods and shit.

The diner has been making me want to kill lately and yet I keep going. Tonight, we sat there in complete silence as the table behind us completely disproved Darwin's theory. Except change "survival of the fittest" to "survival of the not goddamn annoying as hellist". So I guess Darwin really had nothing to do with it, but the idea is the same. Whatever.

I think I'm going to go to my room now and think about things. Today felt a little too much like fall for me to be able to get any sleep. Ironic how my favorite season is also the one I dread the most.

(I will seriously adore you forever if you can name the song the short description is from. I should make a game out of that, actually...which song did I gank from this time?)

Dude. Ahem. HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, VICKY!!!!!

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