I've been out every night for seven days straight. I think I did it just to see if I could. Regardless of why, as I waited for the Dials to start their set at Subterranean (yes, SubT's cool again) last night, the fatigue started washing over me like a damp curtain, and I realized I was heading for an old-fashioned college-style up-all-night paper-due-in-the-morning crash and burn. The thing is, I've been seeing the same people most of those nights, and I have to wonder, how are they doing it? Some of them have had way more beer than me, too. WAY more.

Thank goodness I didn't have a paper due in the morning, or anything to do for that matter.

A (maybe not-so-full) night's sleep and some caffeine later, I still don't feel recovered. The fuzz is still there. I could have just stayed in bed but I wanted to write some of my story.

Alcohol consumption probably hasn't been helping matters.

Notice how cleverly I drop mentions of my story into my posts now? Damn, I'm good, even when comatose.

listening to: Bauhaus.
in my sink: The Memory and Scum of Dishes Past.