I'm a night owl. Not funny.
Imagine all the infomercials I'd end up watching if it weren't for the internet! I've seen my share. Not one sold a sleep-aid. How bad is that? Hmmm, a lucrative market to explore... But the other late night advertisers would probably pay you off before you could pitch a sale.
E is for effort
I laid in bed and listened to coast to coast waiting to drift off into some obscure dream created by radio driven content. I've eaten cheese (if you don't know about that one label me crazy Gouda). I've eaten carb laden crackers. No sleepy-bye for me. If I knock my head against the wall a few times from the absurdity of all this I might at least pass out into unconsciousness.
My sister, obviously intending to visit my parents did a drive-by seeing their cars weren't home. I only live adjacent to them so I couldn't help but be offended when she didn't bother stopping in to visit me. We just had pizza delivered too. Her loss.
Up to where?
Darrel is fed-up to here (hand over head gesture). Maybe the monotony of his job is getting to him. He always seems tired and is obviously more withdrawn than his usual loner self. I hope he doesn't feel obligated to stay up late doing side-work to cover my share. There must be some resentment living with me. I'm not a bonus, more of a door #3. A jackass and a broken toaster, metaphorically speaking.
Fish are friends
My fish floats. A hole in its side like a capsized boat. He may be sick, but isn't dead. Not a puff of suffering seen, I promise. So what do I do? Feed his hungry belly like every morning (he has been this way for a long time) or freeze him into the deep sleep? His remedy drops just aren't working I'm afraid. Sad.