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copperbadge (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} copperbadge) wrote,@ 2012-08-16 09:43:00 |
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It's patently ridiculous how tired I am, all the time.
I go to bed between 9pm and 9:30 pretty much every night, because I wake up at 4:30 in the morning. This isn't a big deal, I'm a morning person, and it's truly the best time to do my morning workout since later I won't actually remember all the dreadfully painful things that workout involves (for the record, I hate all yoga except the Sun Salutation and I only like that one 'cause it makes my back pop. I also hate the vaguely racist "Rhythm Kung Fu" on Wii Fit, but I do it anyway because I am determined one day to be able to stand on one leg without falling over.) But it means I am getting no less than seven hours of sleep a night, which is pretty considerable.
I get to work by seven and get maybe three solid productive hours, just enough time to square away my actual work (this is sad and kind of weird, since it seems to take everyone else a lot longer, but I've become good at faking it) and then to stare at the computer screen and want to write, but be too fuzzyheaded. All I want to do is go home and watch mindless documentaries. The reason I fell behind on Suits and White Collar is literally that they were too intellectually stimulating. And I love these shows to pieces, but neither are exactly Masterpiece Theatre.
I do want to write. Tunnel is waiting for me impatiently, and I've been throwing around the idea of expanding my Presidential Reality Show short story, plus I was thinking how badly I want to write a dystopia (and I don't even like dystopias) just so I could use that terrifying Discover Card advert imagery, and I came up with a brilliant idea for it. But I'm too damn tired.
I suspect this may be some kind of backlash over how tightly strung I was for most of June and July. I didn't talk about it on the journal at the time, which is unusual but was necessary, and I actually do need to sit down and tell that story now that it's all over. It has a great punchline, if you like your punchlines hilariously depressing. (I'm not dying or anything, it was a family event that is now done with.)
And now I am going to go stare at the screen for a while. GAH.
I go to bed between 9pm and 9:30 pretty much every night, because I wake up at 4:30 in the morning. This isn't a big deal, I'm a morning person, and it's truly the best time to do my morning workout since later I won't actually remember all the dreadfully painful things that workout involves (for the record, I hate all yoga except the Sun Salutation and I only like that one 'cause it makes my back pop. I also hate the vaguely racist "Rhythm Kung Fu" on Wii Fit, but I do it anyway because I am determined one day to be able to stand on one leg without falling over.) But it means I am getting no less than seven hours of sleep a night, which is pretty considerable.
I get to work by seven and get maybe three solid productive hours, just enough time to square away my actual work (this is sad and kind of weird, since it seems to take everyone else a lot longer, but I've become good at faking it) and then to stare at the computer screen and want to write, but be too fuzzyheaded. All I want to do is go home and watch mindless documentaries. The reason I fell behind on Suits and White Collar is literally that they were too intellectually stimulating. And I love these shows to pieces, but neither are exactly Masterpiece Theatre.
I do want to write. Tunnel is waiting for me impatiently, and I've been throwing around the idea of expanding my Presidential Reality Show short story, plus I was thinking how badly I want to write a dystopia (and I don't even like dystopias) just so I could use that terrifying Discover Card advert imagery, and I came up with a brilliant idea for it. But I'm too damn tired.
I suspect this may be some kind of backlash over how tightly strung I was for most of June and July. I didn't talk about it on the journal at the time, which is unusual but was necessary, and I actually do need to sit down and tell that story now that it's all over. It has a great punchline, if you like your punchlines hilariously depressing. (I'm not dying or anything, it was a family event that is now done with.)
And now I am going to go stare at the screen for a while. GAH.
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