Sleep is for Pussies!
But this is America, folks. And I'm *excuse my French* fucking tired.
So I trotted off to my doctor's, who I swear to you is Judge Marilyn Milian's doppleganger, in search of some relief from my Northern Lights-omnia before I go crazy ala Robin Williams or Al Pacino, I can't remember which one went crazy. Maybe they both did. I don't know. Anyway, My Florence Nightingale (heh heh) prescribed 10 days worth of Xanax to be taken just before going to bed - even if I feel like I won't need it. Uh yeah, right. Whatever. I hope this works.
Must trudge back to the land of the living and continue slaving away over the temperer so that I can finish up my work and possibly get some zzzzz's before heading off to Pumpkin with M & S at 7. Wish me luck.