I got home around 12:30.
And promptly fell asleep until 6:00.
I am exhausted. It happens every now and then, and I know it happens, and I know why and when it happens, but goddamn if it doesn't surprise me every time it comes round. And if that weren't enough, I woke up this morning pre-loaded with a lovely migraine which is being as impolite as possible, refusing to leave even after I've had caffeine and I've had the medicine with the caffeine in it and I've had the other MY BRANE HURTS medicines, all of which combined are usually enough to send the problem child away or at least have it just lurk in one portion of the back of my head. Focusing is incredibly hard. My mental concentration is nil; I'm writing this in two-word spurts with pauses in between to close my eyes and breathe. Talking on the phone isn't a picnic either.
I've got some work yet; there's a show to cast and some wonderfully talented people to whom I owe "HAY COME TALK FUNNY ON MY COMADY SHOW" email offers, and I have told myself I will not be able to let my guard down until those go out. If I do go home early (and I am endeavoring to do so again) I will not fall asleep until my work is done. Slog through it, young man. Boots on, trenching tool in hand, teeth grit in true determination. And you don't even get the comfy computer chair, either, no sir, you're gonna sit in the wooden kitchen chair with the hard back. We ain't gonna cotton to no coddling today.
Thankfully there's a weekend coming up. I hope I didn't make any plans with any of you because I am dreadfully afraid I may have to declare them null and void in the interest of shutting down and hibernating for a good 36 hours. (And Spore is supposed to go on sale Sunday, how can I reconcile my joy of launching headlong into a new gaming addiction with my desperate need for BRANE TURN OFF GO NIGHT NIGHT?)
Truly these are troubling times. Good thing nobody else in the world has it any worse, eh?