I Feel Like Bill the Cat (II)

      Fucking insomnia!  I feel like Bill the Cat.  I wrote about feeling like Bill the Cat here.  This is a pic of Bill the Cat, in case you need visual aid, good reader:

       I fell asleep for a few hours and the came awake, startled.  I dreamed majorly weird dreams.  Bad tone.  I dreamed that I was a little golden-colored parrot flying through the streets of New York.  I was being chased.  Eventually, I was caught and put into a cage for Guinea pigs.  


     Well, you don’t have to be Sigmund Freud to figure that one out!  (BTW, I used to be utterly skeptical of dream interpretation–or the idea that the subconscious really exists.  Sounded like a lot of woo supernatural horseshit to me.  I BELIEVE IN MATH.  Or empiricism.  Anyway, I have reversed myself about my position regarding dreams.  I kept a dream journal for two years and then did a qualitative analysis on it.  The data strongly indicates that my dreams are germane to the problematic issues of my life.)


     Arrrgh, now I’m awake and tired but I cannot sleep and there are drunk people on the sidewalk fighting and shouting for cabs and throwing up.  I have to give myself a manicure and pedicure for work at THE SUPERSTUDIO tomorrow and my landlord wants his $$$ and I gotta meet grad director in 48 hours and I have to give myself  a crash refresher course in Francis Bacon for another student and my little betta fish Rooster needs his water changed and I HATE MY TORSO IT TAKES UP TOO MUCH SPACE and I need health insurance and I am moonbat crazy right now.


    What do I do, what do I do?  And on that note, I have two and a half college degrees–why am I even living this way?  


    I am not sober.  I need to ramp up my program.  


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