COUNTING SHEEP

Wide awake and the Tylenol PM still hasn't taken hold. The powder blue pills rarely settle my mind, but I try anyhow. All day it's been racing, my mind that is--hindering me at work, drugging me as I speed home on the Turnpike, distracting me at home. It's like I've got this nagging urge boiling beneath my skin, but I can't place what it is.

I'm troubled, bothered by something that's seemingly invisible. Sure, maybe it's the depression. I've felt awful lately, like something is hooked into me, anchoring me to the ground. Waking up has been increasingly difficult. The weekends are becoming shorter as a result. But I don't want it to be this way... should probably seek help. I almost don't care enough though. Oh well. Rumor has it that life's tough, so I'll try to stick it out.

Allow me to retract my previous statement regarding the Tylenol PMs I ingested. They are working. Finally. My eyelids are itchy from the incessant heat, and seem to weigh a pound or two each now. Everything is slowing down. I wanted to talk about my recent turmoil, my internal struggle as it were... been thinking alot about finding a pastime that yields more socially-responsible results. "Such as?" you may wonder. Maybe some work with the Peace Corps., or possibly an Amnesty International program of some sort. That's what I'm thinking... have to look into the matter in more detail though.

However, right now, sleep is what I need.