Sun, My Enemy

I can't sleep properly anymore.

The last days of college has ruined my circadian rhythms. I can only manage to squeeze out a few hours of sleep from the long day, which doesn't even approach my normal ten hours of shut eye.

There are bags growing under my eye bags. I look like some anemic vampire with a serious case of heroin withdrawal. It's not a pretty sight.

I've tried everything short of sleeping pills: warm milk, cold milk, vigorous exercise, priming, meditation, sublimation, turning off the lights, alcohol, water, counting sheep, counting stars, doodling, reading my organic chemistry book...pretty much all I could think of.

If only I could home recorded my biology professors lecture. It might have worked. You never know.

I tried reading my psychology books, trying to find an explanation. I didnt find anything useful. I did find out which part of my brain I needed to stimulate to get myself to sleep; and I also found the nice but useless factoid that says insomnia affects 25% of the population.

It's been four days now. Four days that I've been living in the New Zealand time zone. My mind's stuck in the land of milk and wool.

I ate dinner at Jollibee. I didn't finish my deformed chicken wing or leg--I couldn't tell anymore. I got a newpaper and read the interesting bits.

My horoscope explained everything. It said the sun was farthest from my sign on this very day, which would make me feel tired and restless. The sun's keeping it's life-giving rays all to itself; and me and my fellow weighing scales are suffering for it.

Figures.