Whatever.

I'm tired.

I was tired enough yesterday morning that I actually tried to use caffeine (in the form of tea) to wake up.  It didn't work.  I was totally off my game for figure drawing class; couldn't hold an image in my head to draw the construction lines.

Despite getting to bed late, I got up early this morning to get to school and accomplish more homework.  I had no energy for heavy brain-work and my philosophy homework is covering skepticism.  I spent ten minutes today scribbling down a poem about how I know I'm not dreaming right now because my dream world is a lot darker and weirder than real-life in mid-day.  If the sky is bright blue, I'm unable to read with my eyes closed, and the architecture of the building hasn't spontaneously changed in the last 15 minutes, odds are good that I'm awake.

Yes, I was making arguments for being awake.  Philosophical Skepticism is twisted enough to make me do that just to keep my sanity.

So I've been cranking out critical thoughts all day with an already exhausted brain, and I can't find anyone to model for my drawing assignment due tomorrow.  It's 7:30pm.  I'm done.  I give up.  I'm going to sit here and do nothing of any importance for the rest of the night and take the late grade for art.  Whatever.  I don't care anymore.

I don't care.

Earworm of the Day: Good Times by Manic Drive because it's been stuck in my head the last couple of days.