"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


I Am Jack's Presynaptic Cell.

I'll start by mentioning it's past 6 am and I've been up for awhile (somewhere between 7:03 am and 12:47 pm yesterday, depending on your definition of "up"). Please don't feel obligated to read this.

A typical day for me has lately gone something like this:

  • 7:03 am - alarm goes off because I can't stand to set the thing for a nice round number, naively hoping I'll be "surprised" by the wacky time into waking up and getting a jump on the day. Whatthefuckever. Thus begins my first ritual of the day, "Snooze Hour-and-a-Half"
  • 8:24 am - some cheery fucker in the Eastern time zone on his/her third cup of coffee IM's me. Lacking the conscious ability to come up with something clever, and slightly pissed at being beaten by three minutes to Snooze #7, I manage something along the lines of "I love you too, mom. Now fuck right off."
  • 8:52 am- 'If I get up right now, I can make it to class on time. Except I'm filthy because I was too lazy to shower last night. I can be a few minutes late for the sake of hygiene.'
  • 8:55 am - Turn on shower. Lean against the wall and watch it run for a few minutes.
  • 8:57 am - 'Oh fuck this.'
  • 8:58 am - Back to bed.
  • 12:47 pm - Awake at the sound of a leaf blower outside bedroom window. "WTF???? @#@!$%^%&&*^#$#! I did it Again? Seriously?" Discover IM on desktop I have no recollection of writing. Send apology to mother. Bound out of bed and simultaneously dress and berate myself for being such a loser.
  • 12:53 pm - eat lunch during three-minute race to work. Berate self for staying up so late.
  • 1:30 pm - complete day's work
  • 1:31 pm - commence desk nap
  • 1:59 pm - chat up people with real jobs, complain about "work"
  • 2:27 pm - eat cookies boss's mom sent, look busy
  • 3:02 pm - log somewhere between four and six hours on time sheet, sneak out
  • 3:08 pm - naptime
  • 5:14 pm - feel guilty for having done NOTHING, resolve to work in the studio all night as punishment
  • 5:42 pm - resolve to go to studio right after dinner
  • 6:29 pm - right after checking e-mail
  • 7:13 pm - right after Myspace time
  • 7:53 pm - right after this article
  • 8:46 pm - H'Caust and Lunchy are putting more thought into Studio 60 than Sorkin, I'm afraid. Like, way more. Also I feel really dumb, because they are, after all, talking about a television show. That I watch. And I'm still struggling to keep up with them.
  • 9:12 pm - who am I kidding? Begin cycle of guilt and self-loathing anew/read some forums
  • 10:30 - Ramen attack!
  • 10:37 - Ooh, chat friends!
  • 11:10 pm - Hey look! Netflix!
  • 1:07 am - What, in dog's name, possessed me to rent that?
  • 1:10 am - let's find out what the internet has to say about anything and everything frivolous and trivial!
  • 5:04 am - reluctantly nod off
  • 7:03 am - Snooze Hour-and-a-half
I'd like to say I jest, but I've been just about that effective lately. I sleep, and I hide in my room unless absolutely forced otherwise. As such, I've turned back to the happy pills. I asked for something that might help me sleep.
It's 6:43 am.
I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.