I haven't slept in about 30 hours and don't intend to any time soon. I guess it's more impressive if I include the tidbit about having only slept for four hours before I started this crazy train ride.
It all started on New Year's Eve. I was at a dance - like I am on most New Year's Eves - and I was thinking about the first time I ever (willfully) stayed up until midnight. I remembered how hard it was to do and how little real reward I received. Then I started thinkin' 'bout the film Saints and Soldiers, where the dudes have to find a place to hide out while they take their first nap after essentially running nonstop for like three days. I realized how nightly sleep is more of a luxury than a necessity. It's sort of a construct that people have made for themselves. I started telling my friends that staying up 'til New Year's is for weenies (while checking out the chick with the two-tone gray and white hair, which I think is HOT. Think Terri Nunn but shorter hair and gray on top instead of on bottom) and that I was going to stay up as long as I possibly could.
What I meant by that is the sort of thing maniacal behavior scientists do to gerbils to see if they can make rodents go as insane as people go when they lose track of their routines. I meant I was going to go without any sleep whatsoever until I had not only developed severe mental illness but had probably died also. I imagine I can take a fair amount of this sort of abuse - I have hacker roots, for goodness sakes. Spending a week working 22 hour days so that I could master a new SQL injection technique or working feverishly until 0200 hrs installing various "obsolete" versions of Windows in virtual machines and getting all the little doodads like networking to cooperate was a fixture in my life for a long time, and I'm not averse to doing it occasionally now, as long as I get to blast the same trance and house music and take Enemy Territory breaks. To save some time, I 'll say that I meant to test not my own limits, not even the superhuman limits that we occasionally hear 'bout soldiers reaching, but to set entirely new standards by which only purpose-built machines could be judged.
What ACTUALLY transpired on New Year's Eve is not very close to what I ended up planning (or thinking I had planned). Basically, I talked to the two-toned hair chick, who turned out to be friendly and nice but way weird (not that it's a problem), I went home, and I must have fallen asleep on the sofa or somethin' cos this diagram I just drew does NOT indicate that I did what I thought I did. The point is that it was a bust.
Well, the next day was the 50th anniversary of Fidel Castro's enslavement of a nation. I spent part of that night in the tub watching some anime or something. Maybe I just sat and thought. I remember that I spent a lot of time cleaning the bathroom up while the tub was filling. I remember I went in my room about 2230 and started listening to the Cuban propaganda station on the shortwave. I just like to listen to Cuban music occasionally, OK? I remember turning the lights off and cleaning my room in the dark somehow. I did a good job. I remember praying a bunch too. I know that at midnight I shut off the radio and laid down to go to sleep. When I turned over ten minutes later and looked at the clock, it was 0300 hrs somehow. I have no idea how I wasted three solid hours, but I know I did.
My alarm clock rang at 0600 and I dutifully got up, silenced the buzzer, raised the blinds, and read the thermometer taped to my window. For some reason, I'm able to do that in the dark. Pretty useful. I turned around, realized that there was absolutely no reason in the WORLD to be awake, walked back to my bed, and slept until 0700, at which point my dad woke me up so I could go to the DMV and finally get my big-boy license. With the GDL that's so popular among states now, it takes like three years of training to actually be able to drive.
By the afternoon, I had spent most of the day doing more or less useless (but surprisingly productive) computer maintenance tasks and my head was hurting. So somewhere between noon and 1900 hrs I know I took an Excedrin. Kind of a stressful day, though it sure didn't need to be. I know my head was sort of sore before I went shooting, but all of the noise and stuff probably isn't terribly healthy. Around 1700 and 1800 hrs, I got a dinner at Sonic, ate it, went up stairs for a bath, and promptly vomited as my bath water was being drawn. Something about throwing up makes me feel better when I have headaches. Completely illogical, mais ça marche. I finished my bath and watched half the "New Year's Dream" episode of Azumanga Daioh at the same time, put my Chicago Bears pajama pants on and watched Reba for a bit.
After that it's even more muddled. I know I watched some Lucky Star on the big screen, I watched Nacho Libre over a span of seven hours, I played some Guitar Hero (woo bass and singin'), and did some other similar stuff. About 0500 hrs this morning, we finished Nacho Libre and Josh fell asleep after a bit of Pokemon action. I personally turned to Civilization and proceeded to "get in the zone" for a few hours. I guess until about 0800. Then my attention span finally expired and I started cleaning again.
I'm a bundle of energy. Energy that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, let the record show. I've done a lot of chores I shouldn't have and eaten quite a few crackers. I can barely keep my eyes still long enough to read the back of a CD case, but somehow I wrote this post. I guess I'm off to do more useless computer chores.
At least if I suddenly die in front of you between next Tuesday and Friday, you'll have a bit of the backstory.
On da radio: Deep Purple's "Woman From Tokyo"
How can I even type?