It's Safer If You Stop Reading Here

Absent. Or something. That’s what I am: absent. Or, (insert really long pause)

I can’t even finish that thought or sentence or whatever you want to consider it.

That is how tired I am.

In exactly a week, the organization I work with will be hosting our largest event. This event comes around every year and is known world wide. And have ONE DAY, I SET YOU DAMN OUTLOOK REMINDER FOR ONE DAY, NOT ONE HOUR, BEGONE BEAST. Geezus. As I was saying, have I mentioned how tired I am?

One week to get every thing set up and organized. One week to ensure that, aside from my regular work type stuff, that the committee I assist is good to go for the parade. And I’m sleepy. And maybe because I only got four hours of sleep last night. And the night before. And before. And before. And rinse, wash, repeat.

Yes, I know. Shut up. Stop complaining. Wah, wah. JUST GET SOME DAMN SLEEP ALREADY, WOMAN.

This is where I start whimpering. Yes, I do have a trademark whimper. No, seriously, I do. It’s rather cute, so I’ve been told. But then again I’ve also been told that it’s cute and HOT when I get angry. Maybe that’s why my friends purposely try to get me angry. Little do they realize I BITE! HAHAHAHAHAHAOAH0H0AHA0.

Fuck.

Anyway.

Wait, I need to scroll back up to see what I was writing about.

Haha, oh yeah.

So, yes I know, just get some sleep already. But I try! I really do try! In fact, I even have a cute bottle of prescription sleeping pills that look like orange squishy Tic-Tacs. So what is my problem? And more so, why am I still never getting any sleep?

Simple answer to such a complex question! Or… is it simple question and such a complex answer… I have no clue.

I try to avoid taking these orange squishy Tic-Tack-like magical pills because I am fearful of forming an addition to them. C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. Do I really want to be writing from a rehab centre as a pill-poppin’ sleep sedative addict? No. Not really. May be amusing, but no. And yes, it is something I’m worried about and would rather not risk.

So instead, I opt for ridiculous NONSENSE because I cannot for the life of me form a thought or sentence that makes sense. Or keep my eyes open.

BUT! AH-HAH! A BUT! It is the Canada Day long weekend! Which means lots of rest and relaxation before the MADNESS begins. And fireworks! Oooh, this makes me want to write about my pyro days! As a wannabe pyro! And how I couldn’t be left alone with anything that could start a fire! And how I accidentally almost lit a male’s crotch on fire! Oh and how I almost accidentally lit a boyfriend’s room on fire! And my high school Light-A-Fest fiesta! With the Doors coming to light my firrrrrre! And how after this I’m going to be thoroughly disgusted with exclamation marks!

And how I better quit now while I’m ahead. Period.

Oh and by the way, get this. From what I've been told, how I write and express myself (whatever you want to call it?) is exactly how I am in real life. I don't do the whole, OH let me write something and go off into whateverthehellitis and really it's a disguise. No. Nothing like that. So you all should be grateful that you're not around in Cowtown to witness the insanity that is Me right now. I'm seriously considering hiding at home today from the outside world.