So, I'm typing this from bed. And that's not like 'tea and toast, lights on, music blaring' bed. Nah, it's more like 'lights off, kind of touch typing, music whispering, go to bed soon as i'm done' bed. I'm as shocked as anyone to find myself here, in bed, with the prospect of not just up to but at least eight hours of sleep ahead of me! I'm not sure that my heart can take the excitement. I've not kept a diary for years, so can't actually remember the last time I slept that long, but it sure as heck wasn't any time in the near past (that I can recall, anyways, and that really is a significant factor). I guess there's a number of reasons my body finally beat me into submission. The past few weeks (months, years, life) have consisted of consistent lack of sleep. Hell, I'm so bad at getting my sleep, if someone were to try sleep deprivation as a form of torture on me, all they'd get is excessive giggling, and a wildly...
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