the clog

Night Creatures...

Y'know, it's really quite funny how some people are able to wake up at the crack of dawn all wide eyed and bushy tailed. It's actually quite astounding, really. Boggles the brain, it does. I mean, morning! How does anybody muster the strength to get up? Why am I blathering all about this? Well, over the past couple of days it has become increasingly apparent to me that mornings may be my bane. I have officially become a night creature. No, I don't mean that I've suddenly developed Renfield's Syndrome or even profess to becoming a vampire. But I have, in essence, become a creature of the night *cue thunder and evil laughter. The one that echoes and sounds a bit like "Mwahahahahahahhaha"*.

I'm only fully awake at around midnight and I start feeling sleepy at around 7am. The worst part of this whole scenario is that most of my classes are in the morning. Curses! I can't even stay awake enough to notice the wimmenfolk around college anymore. I'm even starting to look like a creature of the night. The bags under my eyes make me look gaunt and preturnatural. Either that or it makes me look like a racoon (which, strangely enough, is ALSO a night creature! Egads, it's all falling into place!). It probably won't be long now before I feel the urge to drink blood and sleep in a coffin filled with the earth from my ancestors' graves (which would be rather hard to pull off, since my family is not even quite sure where my grandmother's grave is. It's kinda an embarassing story actually. They didn't mark off her grave very well when they first buried her (they were very distraught at the time) and now the cemetary has grown and there are more trees and whatnot, and it all looks a bit more different. They're about 98% sure that she's buried next to the main tree in the cemetary. Of course, it doesn't help when some other fella claims that his father is buried in the exact same spot where we claim granny is buried. Or more specifically, that the grave is actually his father's and that we're being daft for visiting the wrong grave. But I reckon that he's the one who is off his pantaloons. Didn't look like he was very good at figuring out where everything was. He looked like the sort that would get lost in a cardboard box. In all fairness, I would too. But then, I'm probably the only one in my family who has a bad sense of direction. My Dad is like a human compass. But I digress...the point is that if I'm not too sure where my own grandmother is buried, what chance do I have of sleeping in a coffin filled with earth dug from the graves of my ancestors?).

Anyway, moving right along: does anybody have a cure for messed up biorhythms? And I mean that seriously. I don't want any crazy remedies that entail me tying a ribbon to my private parts and sleeping upside down or the like. Even if those remedies did come from A-second-cousin-of-your-aunt-who-heard-it-from-a-homeless-voodoo-doctor-who-rapes-
chickens-to-gain-cosmic powers...or your pet monkey. I need some serious methods. Serious. Oh, and I don't like milk, so no remedies that involve the drinking of milk please. And now I'm going to try to get a little bit of sleep. My class starts at 9, so with luck I can maybe get 4 hours of sleep (it's 4am right now and it takes me and hour or so to get to college if there is a traffic jam in the morning *knock on wood*). So goodnight (or morning, for those of you who are nitpickers)!

Rumoku: probably would make a funny looking vampire...