As I am writing this, these very words, it is 4:12 am on a Sunday (although I guess, more accurately, a Monday.) I haven’t been sleeping more than 2…

As I am writing this, these very words, it is 4:12 am on a Sunday (although I guess, more accurately, a Monday.) I haven’t been sleeping more than 2 hours a night for the last 3 weeks. There is a certain rhythm to my life of late, the rhythm of that chintzy tourist trap “mystery spot” type gift of a bird that dips its beak into a glass of water over and over again until it fills up with water, fills up with too much, overwhelms its equilibrium, dumps it all out, snaps its head back, and begins again. This is my sleep schedule. No sleep, no sleep, no sleep, no sleep, no sleep, no sleep, no sleep, CRACK 14 hours and begin again. I am having trouble discerning the difference between waking and reality. I’ve woken up in the midst of conversations. I’ve woken up naked in my living room on top of my couch. I’m not certain if I had woken up or if I’ve actually fallen asleep. Either way, I can’t seem to remember how I got anywhere.
– Chad