Yawn.  This weekend was supposed to be a "writing weekend," but so far I’ve slept in, taken a shower, traipsed through the woods, and slept some more.  Then I ate and sat in front of the computer while I wished I was sleeping.

Now I really wish I had written even a little bit, because even though I keep yawning and am struggling to focus even more than usual, I wish I didn’t have to go to sleep and admit my writing weekend is already half over.

Did that make sense?  I’m not sure, because I’m too tired to read the whole sentence without confusing myself.

This week I tried fixing this whole sleep/no sleep situation, and even experimented with a new drug.*  I started writing about it, and how I thought it was working, but then I got too tired and woozy to finish.  Really.

* That sounds like I did something naughty.

~

I just found a picture of David from maybe early January 2006.  It’s already hard to remember that they were ever that small, or ever needed to hold onto that rail to get up to the slide.