I'm trying to write something meaningful, and I'm failing. Mostly because I'm falling asleep at my desk.
I could write down the stream of consciousness I face when I sleep, but there is a green field far away/I hope to find it some fine day* (repeat and fade) and I'd rather sing along (repeat and fade) than be inspired at the moment ... zzz ...
My drowsiness does not seem to understand Robert Frost's words: " ... and miles to go before I sleep ..." I know he was talking about death, morbid spirit that he was, but I've got a full day today and naptime doesn't seem to understand that. I'm dressed up, I'm ready to teach, and -- zzzzz ...
I am falling asleep sitting up. Sitting up. It's a good thing I can't sleep standing up, otherwise class today could be very ... different. Zzzzz ...
I've had two cups of coffee. By cups, I mean 12 ounces, or about 2x the amount in those styrofoam shot glasses they call a coffee cup. This means that I've had a total of a pint and a half of -- zzzzz ...
Can I sleepwalk through work? Not an option -- especially since teaching has a touch of acting in it, and I must show my true enthusiasm for this topic externally, which can't happen if I --- Zzzzzz ...
It's okay, I'll wake up as soon as I have to drive to work. It's not good sleeping while driving -- Zzzzz ...
*Waterboys, "The Return of Pan". Great song.
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