I want to moan. And pass out. Why am I typing this? I already have five entries in twenty-four hours, must I really make it six?

Well, there is a reason. You see, sleep and I are very good friends. We have a very close, reliable relationship. Last night I betrayed sleep by staying up all night typing long journal entries. I even had the SAT to look forward to in the morning, and I know that sleep is very insinced that I removed it from its special place in test-preparation.

So, I fear that whenever I go back to sleep, to seek revenge it will never let me wake up again. You see my predicament? And I have unfinished business.

First, the SAT. Wow. Don't tell sleep, but I should really ignore it more before tests. Today has been one of the longest and strangest days of my life, just due to how I feel. I see everything... naturally. Human structures seem genuinely out of place. The sky seems real today. And then there was the test. I knew every answer! Every single one! And usually, on my practice exams, I would think that I knew an answer and then end up getting it wrong. But this didn't feel like that hesitant kind of right. I knew them all, and why. So I suppose we will just have to wait and see.

I did almost have an anxiety attack in the test room, however. I had just finished work on a certain verbal section that had a thirty minute time limit. This was seven minutes in. Just blank walls and fluorescent lights and my big, big problem with endlessness. It is just something that my mind does, I know. And I can reason my way out of it, usually. This time was different, though, in that I had two factors working against me at once:

1. I was in standardized test mode. Question and answer mode. What is the underlying question that they want you to find? And I had already exhausted my test booklet. So I took off to a dark, drippy, corner in my head and felt my pulse rise so sharply that I felt faint... or maybe that was factor two...

2. I was (and still am) running on five hours sleep in over 48 hours. And I know that all you hardened insomniacs out there are rolling your eyes, but like I have mentioned many times before, I am a sleepy person. I really should have gone to sleep when my eyes started crossing as I read short lines of text last night. But no, I wouldn't have any of it. I am a rebel, damnit!

So, here I am, gripping the sides of my desk very tightly and muttering a nearly indescernable moan of worry now and then, and I pull my heart rate down. But my mind is still in a dangerous mode. I look around the room and try to find something comforting. Ah. People. I am not alone. We are all in this together. And then, my salvation. This slouchy kid with brown curles sticking out from under a beanie pulled so low on his face I don't know how he could see the test, this kid catches my eye. And I look at him, across the room. And, very suddenly...

He picks his nose

And at the exact moment I was thinking :

That goofy kid in the beanie. He's trapped by time as well... we're all in it together... he is happy... he is ... picking his nose!

Now, this may not seem funny to you, the reader, but as of this writing I don't have any readers, so I don't care. It put me right back where I needed to be. Now, instead of stifling screams I was stifling obnoxious, inappropriate laughter. That action was the perfect counterpoint to my existential miseries of the moment.

To sustain myself for the remaining ten minutes, I doodled an elaborate discussion between the crotchedey old man standardized test and a young impressionable student. It was surprisingly good for a testbooklet doodle, and the look that my proctor gave me when she picked up the booklet was worth the effort. I wasn't going to try to tell her that drawing grandaddies bunny slippers was all that kept me from seriously disrupting her test with maniacal rants.

Not quite the test day I had pictured, but I like that.

The second piece of business to attend to before I pass out is simple.

Joshua, I love you.

Goodbye for now, comrades.