Last night brought an I-finally-have-a-frickin'-job celebration and, boy oh boy, it was something. I somehow lost the hours from - oh - one in the morning to six or so. One might think I was sleeping during these hours, but oh no, I was awake. I also did not black out. Time just flew. Flew! And now here I sit with unexplainable, but terribly impressive, bruises all over my body. Word has it drinking and bikes don't mix.

I can only ever remember having stayed up all night twice in my life, including last night. During my sophomore year of college I was awake for a 24-hour period and I felt that I had gained a seriously important life experience. Apparently it's normal for people my age to stay up all night every now and then but I just can't do it.

So anyway, I went to sleep at ten this morning and slept for two and a half hours. If my insomniac fits aren't laid to rest (tee hee) tonight, I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. For the past week or so I've been sitting awake at night, trying not to make too much noise in a one-room apartment with my boyfriend sleeping on the other side of the room because he has to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to work.

I start my job on Friday, so I have another week of living like a bum. I plan on enjoying it very much, though I'm not sure exactly what I want to do with the time. I think my real goal should to learn how to sleep at night without the assistance of drugs. At least it'd be cheap. Ah yes, and I'll have to learn how to ride the bus at some point because I did take the job downtown. I wanted to work at the hospital - really, Aurora! - because I feel like it's something I'd like to get into, but I think I'd be a better fit at the hotel.

We'll see.