Yeah, kind of freaky, that.
Not quite sure how to handle it, honestly.
I do know that I’m tired. Not brain-tired, per se. It’s more a physical body flagging exhaustion kind of a thing.
Apparently, six hours of sleep a night is just not hacking it for a girl putting in double and triple shifts of writing every day for the last, well, forever (i.e. ten days to those not exaggerating improperly.)
It’s really weird because I know I’m not overworking. I’m just working more efficiently so I get a lot more done in my designated work hours.
Yeah, I don’t either.
Probably because that makes no sense whatsoever.
And that’s probably because I need more sleep.
*yawns, nearly swallows my dog*
Well, enough complaining.
I’ve got work to do.
SIDE NOTE: I really am Ok. Just bushed. But it’s a good kind of tired, the kind you get after pushing yourself to run a triathlon, or scale Everest, or triple-shift yourself on writing quality smut. In other words, paging my psychiatrist will not be necessary at this point. So, put those phones down, people. *smirks*