I should be sleeping.

I am awake at nearly 2am, when I have to be awake again at about 8am. Why? Because insomnia is a cheeky little bitch. And she likes me. Yay. When I wished for popularity as a kid (not really) this was not what I meant.

I debate watching something geekish, because kids are asleep so it need not be friendly for little eyeballs, and my partner is also snoozing, so I won't get any, "Omg seriously? Sci-fi?" lip... But I know I'll pick a movie that's about 4 bazillion hours long (read: Alien marathon, cause you can't watch just one!), and that means I'm bound to be up much, much longer. Sigh. No chest bursting xenomorphs for me.

I think about baking, but the thought of creating more dishes than are already multiplying in my sink gives me hives. Dishes are evil, and they breed like rabbits when you turn your back. No lie. Why encourage them?

So I sit here on blogger, on my phone, whining into the ether. Go me. If I start hitting up pinterest, someone load the tranq gun.