I went to bed at 3:30am and woke up at 6:30am. I knew this was dumb. I knew that when I walked into the office this morning my boss was going to have a list of things that need to be done immediately, and I knew that my brain would not be ready to process this information. I knew that I would look at him and smile and shake my head, and I knew I would hear my voice say to him, “ok, no problem. I’m on it.” But inside I would be doing my best to suppress my urge to crawl underneath his desk and pull my limbs into my core if only to sleep for the next eternity. Or at least until he would wake me up to tell me I’m fired.

I knew that I would be so completely exhausted that I would want to cry. That is, if my eyes even were capable of producing tears right now. All they really seem to want to do is roll into the back of my head like a mental patient at a psych ward. If anyone has any narcotics on hand, I would gladly play the part (you want me to wear a paper gown and a bib? Bring it. Just make sure I get a room far away from the schizos…I’m afraid I’ll run into someone I know from the bus).

I knew I would be hating myself for spending the night talking to someone who I can easily talk to during normal awake hours, but instead, find myself not being able to say goodnight to and walk away from like a smart person. Someone should take away my degree because I’m really just a simple-minded, sleep-deprived mass of cells walking around with her head up her ass.

I knew that my eyes would betray me. Bastards. They are puffy and droopy and stupid. The letters on this screen are a jumbled blur, and I think I might not be sitting at a computer at all and you probably could convince me that I’m really just dreaming (Go ahead Nikol…go to sleep. No one will mind. When I count to 10 you will be a turnip. 1…2…3….4…5…)

I knew all of these things. Because this is something one knows when one is me and he is he. But I did it anyway. And…I would probably do it again…