I don't want to write at all today. Or do anything else for that matter. I was up till the crack of dawn and it's 8:20 and I have 2 classes and they've been cancelled all week and I just don't want to do it. I really don't. All I want to do is sleep. Which makes it funny because last night I defied that urge for hours. Hours!
Why is it that at night, it's for some reason ok to fight off sleep? Why is it that at night, nothing is more important than what is happening at that moment? Why is it that now, nothing (even class) is more important than sleep?
This is an odd paradox and I'm hoping that after my mid-afternoon nap I'll have more answers. Honestly though, I'm hoping I'll make it through class first.
On a semi-related note, I've been wondering what is worth my time recently. We have such a limited time here and on top of that, we are limited by space, by where we reside. Given my limitations, how should I choose to spend my time? Is this writing worth it? Is staying up late worth it?
I can already hear my friend cringing at those sentences and I can hear him saying life is meant to be lived, not dissected. Maybe he's write. But honestly, I'm too tired to think about it.