I pulled an all-nighter last night, for work. It’s pretty rare for me these days, since as I get older, the more it really fucking sucks to recover from it. I think it’s been years since I stopped working when it got light outside.
Disregarding eating, going to the bathroom, and commuting, I was working 23 out of 24 hours. Someone should give me a medal. And a pillow.
Back in high school, when I first did all-nighters (unlike many people, my later high school courses were university-level, except I had to take 7 academic classes at a time instead of university’s 5, which was fine since I wasn’t having any sex yet anyways) I would spend the day in a daze, drinking herbal tea. Don’t know why; that barely has any caffeine. But somehow I managed it.
In university, specifically near the end when I was finishing my computer science degree, I started having strange sleep-deprivation-induced hallucinations. These were often spiders or insects (either one large one, or a flying swarm of something) but strangely also severed heads. I don’t know about the severed heads, but the insect stuff is supposedly documented as being common. It’s trippy once you realize you’re just imagining it.
Last night’s work resulted in my afternoon nap including a really detailed lesbian dream. So now sleep deprivation is making me gay, great. The other chick in the dream was really hot, but I didn’t really know what to do, since she didn’t have a penis. It was a real cock-tease of a dream, especially since it didn’t contain any cock whatsoever.
The local radio station that wakes me up every morning (well, except this morning when I was just putting my head down when it went off) seems to be playing a lot of my Grade 5 soundtrack this week, to remind me of a time when I got my 8-9 hours every night:
(Interesting to Dad, the guy above is from Sheffield.)
(Songs about Americans always seem to be written or sung by Canadians.)
On one of my most sleep deprived days, as I was walking to school, I was crossing the street and my brain combined me noticing a mailbox with noticing a car and I got mail car. I was surprised to see it missing on my head’s return pass of the street.
(Note: I was in France at the time, where there are mail cars and not mail trucks, so it was believable)