The Me

i somewhat feel i have not woken up at all. alas. this is the predicament you're forced to face when you sleep for hours longer than you're meant to be asleep. that grogginess that precedes over-sleeping. 2 cups of coffee n' its still there. am i awake at all? i s'pose, tomorrow, or whenever i decide to check in on my blog, i'd see this entry. then, i'd know for sure i was awake; or at least sleep-typing [???]. ah. so. t's almost 5 in the evening n' i have yet to reach anywhere with my essay, except for notes. facts. incoherent ideas i see now as useless. i juz spent the past hours watching midday shows i feel producers [or whoever it is tt plans television programs] slot in the midday because they suck at a rating of 12 on a scale of 1 to 10. noone, except housewives n' uninspired uni students with impending essay datelines, watch em'. oh! newsflash: Marlena is a murderer. Hope has somehow become too manly to be pretty. exotic or otherwise. I reckon Bo Brady is un-sexy. imma continue rumminating on ADHD.