Sunday, June 29

Three hours to go.

I hate clock-watching.

Time slows down when you look at the clock. It's because you stop thinking when you do. Thinking takes up time, and time is what you need to waste until you punch out.

In the meantime, I'm really sleepy. I don't thinkI'll ever get used to writing when I'm this incoherent. I read somewhere that mental faculties diminish when you go past the point where your body needs to rest. When I first read that I imagined everyone walking with a large mental capacity bar above their heads, like they were sprites in a video game. After a certain point, this bar starts shrinking.

I'm going to sleep. Fuck it.