ick

Well, I suppose that the upshot of having vile, horrible, nasty, nauseating insomnia is that it allowed me to finally write my Bookslut column. Now I can take care of prepping meals for the little one, take care of all morning crap, call in sick, and then crash hard for eight hours. I hate Sunday night insomnia.

Sunday night itself was fun; played Settlers. Too incoherent to write about it now, though.