On Sunday I woke up at 9am after having gone to bed at 6am.
Sure, I was tired. But I couldn't sleep for some reason. Then, it occurred to me--this was perfect.
I have to change my sleeping schedule because I'm going to Lake Arrowhead with my parents and my sister for four days, and I was told that I must adapt to their customary hours.
So I decided last night that I would go to bed at midnight--easy enough as I'd only gotten three hours of sleep the night before--and wake up at 8am.
Things didn't quite work out that way.
I did go to bed at midnight.
But when my alarm went off at 8am . . . I asked myself, what harm would it be to sleep just a little longer.
I woke up again at 12pm.
Oh well. So--fuck it. You know? I'll just force myself into the schedule when the time comes. It's not like I'm gonna have to operate heavy machinery. I'll just live as a zombie for a while.
To-night I went and saw Michael Moore's new film Bowling for Columbine and I heartily recommend it.
I also wrote a lot to-day, visited Marty, and that's about it. Actually, I wrote a lot to-day. I wonder if sleeping 12 hours makes me more productive? Hmm . . .