Along with publishing blog posts way too late, I now also fight crime.

The last couple of nights I haven’t been sleeping well. I want to say it’s because I’m stressed out or unhappy or something else totally logical, but in reality it’s my indecisiveness that’s doing me in. For starters, between the hours of two and three in the morning I debated getting up to make myself some herbal tea—it probably would have helped but I didn’t end up doing it because “it would have taken too long.” I thought for sure that by the time it was all made and cool enough for me to drink that it would have just been way too late for me to drink it and I would surely be asleep by then anyway. Little did I know, it wasn’t, I wasn’t and one hour later I still had no tea. You’re probably wondering what was I doing up so late to begin with—I was fighting crime. True story. (For the sake of this blog entry, I’ve temporarily renamed sleep to crime. Before you complain, just know that I did you a favor. I could have chosen not to inform you, or perhaps I could have placed an asterisk that would lead you to a footnote that isn’t anywhere to be found like some kind of asshole.)

Fighting crime wasn’t such a great idea though—I had to work at nine this morning, meaning I got just four hours of sleep. (Don’t look at the time stamp for when this is actually published because none of this is going to make sense. Yes, I know it was technically yesterday morning.) I probably should not say I had to work because what I am getting paid to do is not work at all. (Until I receive an actual paycheck I’m choosing to believe this may be some big joke or something—I don’t want to get my hopes up. I did a lot more than what I’m doing now for almost seven years and all I got out of that was the joy of going home every day. I started screening my phone calls. On the off chance I would actually pick up the phone, my excuse was usually terrible: “No, I’m having my eyeballs dug out with a rusty spoon today—I can’t come in to work.” Happy people don’t screen their phone calls.)

I am probably going to repeat the whole thing tonight, but it won’t be as terrible because I work at two in the afternoon tomorrow instead of nine in the morning. Also, I’m tired right now—as you’ve probably figured out from how badly this is all written—so I think I’ll fall asleep quickly tonight.

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Stephen Battey

Stephen Battey

Stephen is a 25 year old amateur photographer, blogger, and husband from Tacoma, Washington. He shares a cute ass house with his husband, cat, and two dogs. He generally hates all weather patterns.

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