mania at its finest.

Today (or rather, yesterday) was Thanksgiving. Holidays are always strangely sad to me. I can't help it, but I'm not the only one, either.

I have nearly accepted the fact that sleeping at normal hours is basically impossible for me. It is almost half past three and I'm still chugging away. I've scoured my entire room, balanced my checkbook, read some, taken a bubble bath, and begun an autobiography which will one day be nationally acclaimed as a New York Times bestseller. My stomach has been intensely growling for several hours but I've managed to ignore it. I'm on a roll.

This is my life now. I think I'm crazy.