I have 6 minutes to post something before I’m officially late.
I’m going to be late.
My mind has been giving me grief lately. Okay, it gives me grief kind of often. But lately, it’s a bit different. I’m not having weird hyper-emotional moments like I tend to have. Instead, I’m distracted. Or something.
So I’m just going to see what weird shit comes out of my mind…
It’s been 19 minutes since I started typing this post. And this is what I’ve got. Granted, SNL is distracting me. I shall now hide my face and admit that Harry Styles has a pretty amazing voice. But he looked better with longer hair. Jesus, he’s young enough to be my… um… much younger brother. I am creepy.
I made a cheesecake last night. I’m stunned I made it through today without devouring it. But really, I didn’t have time to remember it was in the fridge. I had to make chocolate-toffee-walnut bark… and brown sugar shortbread cookies dipped in chocolate… and… Ooh, time for the fake news…
I’d love to know how it’s possible that I drank a giant iced coffee at 9pm yet I’m yawning and could drop at any moment. Am I now immune to caffeine? That was a fucking 32 oz vat of coffee. Staying awake wasn’t the mission, though. Deliciousness and a headache cure — those were the goals.
It has been 37 minutes since I started typing this post. And I still have no point. My frustration only grows… and I wonder if my mind is ever going to stop jumping around distracting me from, well, everything.
Oh… I’m sorry. I just dozed off for a minute.
It has been 47 minutes since I started typing this post. I think my mind is telling me it’s time to give up and get some sleep.
This messed up stream of consciousness is brought to you by exhaustion, 68 minutes, and the letter m.