Insomnia's a Bitch...

... and then you die!

Well, hopefully not anytime too soon. That would suck, although on the other hand I suppose it would be nice and restful.

Insomnia is very stream-of-consciousness, you know, you're sort of bouncing around on the edge of sleep, head pounding, heart racing, but so very very tired, and the oddest thoughts pop into your head. For instance, did you know that Flea, of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, once spent several months living in a dishwasher?

I guess that was probably back before he made it big.

Remember Get Smart? Remember how they had the "Cone of Silence" in the Chief's office, which he would lower over his desk when having top secret conversations with Max? And how it didn't work quite right in that they could not hear one another under it, so they always ended up leaning their heads outside it and shouting? Oh my God I loved that show.

Agent 99 was my heroine, because she was funny and smart and competent and gorgeous and sexy. I always wanted to be just like her. And yet, you know, when she first fell in love with Max, she was insecure and shy and awkward just like me. Love makes huge doofuses of us all. I bet the fair Juliet, receiving Romeo on her balcony, was primarily thinking about whether she had a booger or smelled like onions.

Oh yeah, anyway, I was just going to suggest that a "Cone of Silence" would make an excellent bed canopy. Also, you could market a hat-sized version for tuning out annoying family members or coworkers. I'm surprised nobody's thought of this before, aren't you? I mean, wouldn't you make a killing? So if anybody reading this gets rich off my idea and doesn't share with me, I'm going to be hella pissed.

I did a French manicure on my nails yesterday. Fingernails, not toenails. They look quite nice, and this is important because men really notice these things, you know. I'm pretty sure my fingernails are my best feature. This is probably a little irrational, but I absolutely hate women who have French tips on their toenails. Seriously, like I said, I know it's irrational, but whenever I see a French pedicure I feel a surge of hostility. That looks so stupid. I hope no such women are reading this. My toenails are red, as God intended.

Work. I should be getting up in a few minutes and starting to get ready for work. I've been awake since ten minutes to one. I can't sleep anymore. Thank God for coffee.