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I can now safely attribute 90% of my bad, down, depressing moods to sleep deprivation.
This morning will suck until 1 or so, when I'm hungry enough to eat.
Why didn't I get enough sleep? I'm glad you asked...
.... Im walking through a fairly secluded out of the way place. Trees, wooden stairs ascending a hill, that sort of thing. Everytime I start to move in one direction, I see him. Battered leather jacket, hockey mask, some flavor of bladed killing weapon in his hand. Mr. Voorhees himself. (I get Jason dreams from one stupid commercial? My subconscious is weak). I keep trying to find a different way to go, but sure enough, there he is. Teleporting little bastard. Finally, I'm sick of it. I know I didn't smoke any pot, pick on anyone, or have sex right? I'm sinless, so I sould be immune to his chump ass. I'm taking him out. I walk up the wooden stairs, and he approaches me, and I begin to think that this may not have been such a good idea. The axe rises and falls, I lunge at him... time slows, reality shifts, and Im lying in bed. An older could is lying still, I know they are my parents even thought they arent' my parents, and I know what I have to do. I pick up the hammer, and raise it... the first blow doesn't seem real, it vanishes on the moment of impact, but the second, and third and fourth? They connect solidly, easily. I'm even putting extra force in by the end. I walk out of the room, into the rest of the house. There they are, lots of young adults. Clothes off, beer bottles rolling under foot, the haze of sweet smoke and low cries filling the air. I sigh, adjust my battered leather jacket, adjust the mask and pick up my claw hammer. Time to go to work....
Now you know why I'm cranky.
This morning will suck until 1 or so, when I'm hungry enough to eat.
Why didn't I get enough sleep? I'm glad you asked...
.... Im walking through a fairly secluded out of the way place. Trees, wooden stairs ascending a hill, that sort of thing. Everytime I start to move in one direction, I see him. Battered leather jacket, hockey mask, some flavor of bladed killing weapon in his hand. Mr. Voorhees himself. (I get Jason dreams from one stupid commercial? My subconscious is weak). I keep trying to find a different way to go, but sure enough, there he is. Teleporting little bastard. Finally, I'm sick of it. I know I didn't smoke any pot, pick on anyone, or have sex right? I'm sinless, so I sould be immune to his chump ass. I'm taking him out. I walk up the wooden stairs, and he approaches me, and I begin to think that this may not have been such a good idea. The axe rises and falls, I lunge at him... time slows, reality shifts, and Im lying in bed. An older could is lying still, I know they are my parents even thought they arent' my parents, and I know what I have to do. I pick up the hammer, and raise it... the first blow doesn't seem real, it vanishes on the moment of impact, but the second, and third and fourth? They connect solidly, easily. I'm even putting extra force in by the end. I walk out of the room, into the rest of the house. There they are, lots of young adults. Clothes off, beer bottles rolling under foot, the haze of sweet smoke and low cries filling the air. I sigh, adjust my battered leather jacket, adjust the mask and pick up my claw hammer. Time to go to work....
Now you know why I'm cranky.
