Is it possible to be more tired than me tonight?
Last night was a strange one, to say the least. First a pigeon came into my room (this was a dream) then a crowd of people started honking outside from a Volkswagen camper van (still a dream) then sun rose and one of the rainbow-clad hippy chicks in the van was inside my room and I realised I was having a dream.
And in these cases, there’s only one thing you can do: have sex before you wake up.
There was a red mobile phone that kept making an appearance, too, but I didn’t spend enough time asleep to discover its true significance.
I have vivid dreams at the best of times, but this one left me exhausted upon waking: lucid dreaming (where you realise you’re having a dream) is no more restful than Real Life, so I managed about an hour of regenerative natural sleep between 5am-7am. Then almost late to Strategic Advantage or whatever the fuck this morning’s class was, with only a cereal bar fuelling the a.m., then hit the pool at 12.30 to do a couple of km before the next class at 2. Bad idea. (Although I blew off a couple of wannabe fishlike undergrads who thought they were ready for the fast lane. Dream on, kiddies.) Running on empty, and I need a full tank.
I’m a bit worried about the way life is going. I don’t sleep much; expend too much energy; spend the intervening moments in odd trancelike states. Is my mask of sanity starting to slip?