Was it a vision, or a waking dream?/Fled is that music:—do I wake or sleep?

Well, my belief that skiing is not the wisest of athletic endeavors has, once again, been shown to be a sound belief. Luke (head of his college ski team) had a bad fall or crash or whatever the proper term for that is, and dislocated his shoulder, and his jaw, and might have a concussion. That's the best-case scenario. And since I don't want to be like the Kennedy who died by skiing directly into a tree, I'm going to sit quietly at 'home' (in the middle of Flatland, USA) and not regret my lack of exposure to skiing.
Time awake: 39 hours and counting. I haven't had caffeine since Thursday afternoon/evening (around 5-ish). I'm not tired, physically or mentally. This is probably bad. I hate when my body does this. It's like it randomly decides to be cruel and mess up my mind more than it already is. I'm going to try to sleep tonight; I can feel the time approaching where I'll start getting grey cobwebby lines at the edges of my vision. And once I reach that point, it's only a matter of time until I pass out, literally, for an hour or two. Then I wake up and could do the whole thing over again. Which is also probably bad. The part that actually worries me, though, is the way my mind starts to twist; even now I can feel it trying to wrest away whatever tenuous grip I have on sanity at the moment. Humans were meant to sleep, if only to process more thoroughly all the information received during the waking hours. When that processing time is removed, things start to build up, and that's when bad things are very likely to occur. Think of a septic tank that gets stopped up and everything just flows back up through the pipes; but since the septic system wasn't designed to handle that much pressure coming from both directions, it breaks a bunch of pipes and so now not only does your shower drain produce smelly black goo every time you turn on the sink, but the front lawn you spent so many hours meticulously caring for is now squishy and reeks of sewage.
That is what will, in effect, happen to me. It happened before. It was bad. Very bad. Be glad that you didn't have to see it.

Oh another note, I saw Max today. He was sitting in the little anteroom/foyer/thing here in English, and the way he looked at me made me want to cry because it reminded me of Droopy so much. I miss Droopy. You never forget your first real pet, and he was a wonderful one.

Oh, and I did laundry. And (for lack of the proper term) dangling situps. And as I was putting on my pajamas not many minutes ago I scraped the top of my foot. Go me.

I'm going to try to sleep now.

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