A quick note to my body
Jun. 23rd, 2009 10:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lizbeeDearest Body,
It's not that I don't like you. Quite the opposite: you do a marvellous job of conveying my brain around, and until such a time as we can upload my intelligence directly to the internet, the arrangement is just going to have to continue. At least, if we must be stuck with each other, you're not hideously ugly, and I do my best to control cravings for foods that would make you unhappy.
Still, we need to talk about the sleep thing. No, I'm not mad about yesterday -- we'd just worked six days in a row, two with a migraine (even if you did have me thinking it was a sinus infection -- not one of your funnier pranks, by the way), and I think we were perfectly justified in calling in sick to work and then sleeping all day.
But that was yesterday, dear body, and I've had dreams about converting pictures to jpegs and snarking on LiveJournal about fannish fail, and frankly, the subconscious and I are getting a bit sick of each other. I can't sleep the rest of June away, however tempted I am by the concept of hibernation, and I rather wish you'd stop sending these SLEEP NOW signals. It's making me very ... well, it's not funny, that's all. I need to be at work at five-thirty tonight, and then again at ten tomorrow (yes, I'm as appalled by that as you), and this persistent headache is not helping.
In short: please, dearest body, try to function normally? It would be ever so good of you.
Yours,
the Brain
PS I just found cat hair in my tea. I don't even know...
It's not that I don't like you. Quite the opposite: you do a marvellous job of conveying my brain around, and until such a time as we can upload my intelligence directly to the internet, the arrangement is just going to have to continue. At least, if we must be stuck with each other, you're not hideously ugly, and I do my best to control cravings for foods that would make you unhappy.
Still, we need to talk about the sleep thing. No, I'm not mad about yesterday -- we'd just worked six days in a row, two with a migraine (even if you did have me thinking it was a sinus infection -- not one of your funnier pranks, by the way), and I think we were perfectly justified in calling in sick to work and then sleeping all day.
But that was yesterday, dear body, and I've had dreams about converting pictures to jpegs and snarking on LiveJournal about fannish fail, and frankly, the subconscious and I are getting a bit sick of each other. I can't sleep the rest of June away, however tempted I am by the concept of hibernation, and I rather wish you'd stop sending these SLEEP NOW signals. It's making me very ... well, it's not funny, that's all. I need to be at work at five-thirty tonight, and then again at ten tomorrow (yes, I'm as appalled by that as you), and this persistent headache is not helping.
In short: please, dearest body, try to function normally? It would be ever so good of you.
Yours,
the Brain
PS I just found cat hair in my tea. I don't even know...
