October 12th, 1988
D.D.
I’m so tired.
I knew I’d be tired when I was writing TJ a letter at 11PM last night. But if you’re not tired at the moment you’re supposed to go to sleep you think, “Well, maybe I won’t be tired at school.” But you are always tired at school. Always.
Because it’s impossible not to be tired at 5:45am after only sleeping about five hours at most because you’re too drugged up on cough medicine to sit still and say, “Whoa, you’re gonna be really tired tomorrow morning. Ha! Ha!” So you’re forced to go through the day exhausted and raunchy because you’ve got the same cold you’ve had since September and the medicine combination you take in the morning makes you feel groggy on top of the lack of sleep. (Which is stupid because the one you take at night makes you feel hyper. And you’re like, “Doc, baby, let’s do a switcheroo…” and he tells you that it’s impossible, it’s never been done before, it could cause a hormonal imbalance that would grow hair on your chest and give you the urge to go cruising for chicks) So you walk around looking like a skag with your hair not done and bags under your eyes and an attitude like, “Don’t mess with me. I had no sleep last night and I’m liable to kill you with my bare hands, using up all the strength I was saving for a trip to the pottie.”
So yeah, I’m tired.
M.
