No one is sleeping properly... and I had JUST been getting a schedule, too. (It means one of these days I'll zonk right out at 5PM and wake confused 12 hours later.
It doesn't make me happy to be on trend.
But when I'm ALMOST there, I get one or more of the following:
"THE CREEPING ITCH FROM HELL".
My legs deciding, along with my brain, which I've affectionately taken to calling Audrey, that I am a Rockette and this is the Christmas show at Madison Square Garden.
The 3AM Wake Up Question or Columbo Act, depending on Audrey's sadistic whims.
"Just one more thing..."
"SLEEEEEEEEP," I growl.
In order, some of Audrey's most interesting questions:
*You occasionally like Necco Wafers, right? Don't they have a terrible name? 'Neco' is Latin for "to kill"- Wafers of Doom! (CATCHY!)
*What have the Romans ever done for us? (Audrey, no more Monty Python before bed.)
More frustrating is the recrimation, what should be done/ said replay.
I gotta get this brain in shape.
This ought to do it!
That's Nerddelicious! Mr. Creosote's Wafer Thin Mint
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