Ok. I'm awake. Shit.
My schedule allows me to sleep until noon most days, so when I have to be somewhere in the single-digits part of the morning, I get so paranoid that I'll oversleep that I can't sleep at all.
While I was lying there quietly last night, worrying about not getting enough sleep, my brain decided that wasn't quite enough perversity and began belching up those kinds of thoughts I usually squelch because, well, I'd like my life to move forward: That minor decision you made a few years ago: was it really the right thing? Are you sure? Really? Really sure? How about now? Oh, and that thing you want to do, you can't possibly think you're capable of that, do you? And that thing you said, that wasn't the nicest or best thing you could have said, was it? Well? Was it?
Shut up, brain, I thought over and over, too tired to get up and do something else, but my brain apparently does not care about what I want, and so this went on until SIX-THIRTY A.M., when I finally dozed off and immediately began to have a dream about being evacuated from work due to a poisonous gas release.
This actually turned out to be a good thing, because when the alarm went off, I was more than happy to get up and away from all that.
Now I'm ready to put on some old clothes and go paint a million happy faces. I bet they all end up looking a little like they're yawning.