I don't know if it is the instant elimination of tobacco from my life or the stress of feeling like I'm "running the show" with "too little of a cast" or "poor delegating skills", but the past few nights I've been sleep-cleaning my room. I wake up to clothing, borrowed books, and pens pushed up against my wall.
And I am wearing different pajamas (actually, different underwear, but it is the internet and that is not something you mention). And I find that I texted twitter at 3:40AM:
"Comic books are so much easier is what I woke up to myself mumbling after I'm pretty sure I asked a bigger woman to play chris farley for me in my action adventure."
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