delerium

bored. boring. borst.
sometimes i wonder why i feel so relieved after cleaning my apartment. then i wonder about what the people i know think about me when i tell them just how relieved i feel after cleaning my apartment. it’s not like my home is immaculate. i only rarely use a toothbrush to scrub anything (which i did last night). i’m actually a bit of a slob about certain things: papers, the bookshelf, cobwebs in corners, the bathroom, dusting in general.
there’s something wholly satisfying about surveying one’s kingdom in its state of clean and tidiness and then falling into a freshly laundered bed to sleep peacefully.
of course, only the surveying and falling happened to me last night. just after getting under the covers, christopher phoned all jacked up on sugar, talking like a manic junkie with a speech impediment. after talking to him for half an hour or so (okay, listening to him talk), i rolled over to go to sleep. then i rolled over onto my other side. then i turned onto my stomach, then i flipped onto my back. get the picture yet? finally, after trying deep breathing exercises and other relaxation techniques (no, not *that*, sheesh), i stuck some earplugs in my ears, tractioned my spine, snuggled a pillow and slept like the dead until 6:08 this morning.
the dreams were vivid until after my shower was complete, but, thankfully, not upsetting in the least. lots of people from my present, though — unlikely stars of my subconscious. they were all nice enough, except for when they abandoned me because of the power failure. after messing up the guest couch, too! jerks.
it’s tuesday. did you realize? seriously, why does this day hate me so? the corner of my CRT says it’s only ten past twelve. my internal registers disagree. they’re mostly convinced it’s nearly three-oh-seven in the pee em. i should convince my superiors to make allowances for this particular quirk in my make-up. just for tuesdays, the rest of the week are fine enough.
wouldn’t you love a burrito right about now?