It must make a difference, the caffienne, but I don’t feel it. I don’t even know if I feel the lack, other than the nagging of a habit unsatisfied. These winter days with their early classes and foggy dimness hinge on the routine of warm paper cup, 1 packet raw sugar and an ounce or two of half-and-half. After Electronics (ph 412) and before Paradigms (ph 424, 425, 426), some pivot point is reached between the 3 am bedtime and the 7:30 am alarm and I am levered up out of half-dead sleep deprived bleariness, over the cusp and onto the long slope of tired-but-awake which will leave me with too much momentum to sleep before the wee hours of the morning. Unable to sleep, but tired, ineffective, unfocussed. I hate winter, sometimes.
No comments yet.