Sleep, life, and other bitches.

There's a very serious truth to be found in the downsides of staying up late.

For one thing, you could get the symptoms (the ones I mentioned in the 'trains' rant).

There are others, of course. Like lack of concentration, hyperactivity, hypersensitivity, paranoia and the tendency to annoy cats.

There's no point in trying to achieve certain feats, right after you've slept one hour for every infant you've pushed down the stairs.
O.o
Okay, consistency isn't my strongest point, but it's particularly bad right now. That's probably because I'm suffering from the point I'm trying to make.

When you haven't slept a lot, it's difficult to concentrate, yadda yadda yadda.

So what do you do? You go to bed early.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when life, and more specifically, yours, in the form of your own body, fucks you over. Royally.

Look, body, let me explain something to you. I'm doing you a favor. I'm giving you sleep. You have time to calm down. I mean, COME ON! I went to sleep early!

I shouldn't have a friggin MIGRAINE.

Blegh.

This is pointless. I need sleep, yes, but I kinda have the feeling I should get something in return. Now, there's always the possibility of medication (hell, there's some medication that's fun even when you don't need it), but It's a point of principle in this case. I should be rewarded, not punished, for sleeping and getting up 4 hours earlier than usual.

Now, there's also the absence of the possibility of medication. Because of my body's constant need to annoy me: Hay fever (or, in pretty, long and important words: Allergic Rhinitis), I can't swallow anything, decently, let alone a bloody dafalgan (like an aspirin). I'd rather drink some sulfuric acid, thank you very much. It'll hurt just as much, and it's much more interesting for science.

One day my body is going to stop, just to kill me. I'm going to be the death of me.

I'm done for the day. If you're reading this, I managed to publish this thingy here.