Destroyed by the Saviour

ok, just one more, swear (HA!)

and sorry to those of you who thought this might be a big ol' honkin' religiousity bashing/fest/whatever; that's next week

itoccurs, as i roam these hallowed halls, in my never-ending bitch-n-moan-festivus-quest for sleep that, well, this place HAS saved my life.

for true. you could look it up.

but the thing is? if it wasn't so great here maybe i'd have a better chance of actually getting some sleep.

because i have been insomnamaniacal (yes, i meant insomnamaniacal) since i was 12 or so, so we know it's chronic (that's the royal "we," yo), and i have always tended to give it an hour or so then get up and do something if the whole sleep thing doesn't take.

but now, with this place? i give it only about 15-30 mins at a time, then i think of something i want to say or someone i need to touch base with or whatever, and up i come, to wander around again.

i should see how wander is doing...

but you see what i mean?

it's saved me, the hedd, but i wonder sometimes if it's not a contributing factor to the incessant insomnia...

and once again, i must beg pardon, and praise patience for the psuedo-philosophical ramblings of a super-sleepy (see, even the vocab is going) femme.

yep.