52/340: Oh

So I'm not sure why I'm awake in the middle of the night tonight, other than that I had to take a nap around eight o'clock Wednesday evening and didn't eat dinner, and most likely it was hunger that woke me up just a few hours later and prevented me from getting back to sleep. So here I am hungry but I really don't feel like eating, which sounds contradictory, but the thing is that eating has never been one of my favorite experiences, and as a rule I will wait until the hunger becomes more unpleasant than the act of eating and then I will eat, as the lesser of two evils.

Anyway, I'm hungry enough to be annoyed to wakefulness, but not hungry enough to actually stick something in my mouth and chew on it. If somebody else were around to actually prepare the food for me, or if there was a decent restaurant within easy walking distance (and I still had the energy to walk) I'd probably eat now, but the extra hassle of needing to decide what to eat and then fix it makes the hunger more tolerable, for now. I'll probably go on sitting here not eating for half the night, and end up regretting the sleep I could have had. Stupid stomach.

You can't spell go on without goon, and I can't say I can't goon because it's so obviously false and ridiculous, and I've just realized that that is probably why I'm still alive. Words are funny, and almost as stupid as stomachs. And brains, which often just keep on running even when they are running on empty. So.

52/341: Whyever

Thursday afternoon's high here got all the way up to 72. It was nice to have the windows open for a couple of hours, but it might be even nicer if we get the showers the forecast is predicting for late next week. In fact there could be quite a bit of shower activity through the rest of February. These, I suppose, are the April showers of legend, but come early. And the dog days of summer? Those will be ravening wolf days.

Oh crap, I lost track of time again and it's after midnight. Wanted to post this yesterday. The day I had a peanut butter sandwich for diner. Life has become a battle to the death with the clock. The clock always wins.