"What's the point of them being happy now, if they're going to be sad later? And the answer is, of course, that they're going to be sad later."

I feel like there's something for me here to write about. I'm not sure what it is, though. So I'll just start, and then I'll eventually reach the middle, and then I'll be done.

Lately I've been having enormous trouble sleeping. Usually I can fall asleep, but I used to be able to fall asleep by about 10:00, or really generally anytime after 6:00 (let's be honest here). But I find myself uncomfortably unable to get to sleep until much later than that, and then my internal alarm clock does not let me sleep past 7:30 in the morning, no matter if I wanted to sleep in because of a restless night or just because I feel it is my sworn duty as a university student to sleep in a little when you don't have class first thing in the morning. (I feel like I'm letting someone down, here. It may be me and my brain. I only hope I am getting enough deep cycle sleep for my brain to properly restore and prune neural pathways).

My fingers are sore. My tummy is aching with the fluttering of tiny dragon wings and sharp pointy teeth in my rib cage. My god, that's unpleasant. But my other parts, oh, my toes, oh, oh, how they fly.

On another bright note, I am extremely excited for next year, when I get to be an RA in home-sweet-Vanier, so another year of Stackables sandwiches for lunch and dinner to look forward to. As well as nice, quiet Friday nights, you know. Yes. You know. But that's for a later time. For now, I must be on my way to 48 hours of musical rehearsal. Perhaps I will bring my Italian to study. Should I bring my Italian to study? I'm sure I should... okay, I'll stop. 

"I suppose you'd prefer to be alone?"