It's 12:35 am and I should be sleeping, but the crickets outside are chirping and the one inside is busy tying to do me in, and there are barbeque potato chips and bowls of candy corn and cups of apple cider to keep me awake, and, although I am a little tired, I'm not tired enough to worry about how tired I will be when I wake up in the morning (or perhaps I'm too tired to worry about it; who knows?)
I currently have more emails in my Drafts folder than my inbox: notes to self, links to online quiz results, an article that proves just how... 'funny' (we'll call it funny) Zac Efron can be when he tries, and something that is, apparently, entirely blank. I've been spending the last few hours synthesizing notes for tests I have this week, next week, in a hundred weeks, and really I'm sure that, when all is said and done, I'll forget I made these notes to begin with.
I am okay with forgetting about these notes.
Today RED writer Amy H and I discussed the essays and clothes we should wear to the release party, and as we 'sampled' free food at the mall, we talked about shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings*, essentially. It was pretty rad. The essays are pretty rad. More than 'pretty rad', really. Completely amazing and devastaing and tear-jerking and laugh-inducing and everything, all at once. I have two people (friends and family) that have requested books signed by every RED author I might chance to meet in November. I'm stoked. They're stoked. Life is good, and I'm beginning to get tired.
So while the world sleeps, and crickets both stalk and chirp, I'll bring this to a close. Maybe I'll finish RED tonight. Likely, I won't: I have to take it slow with this book. Each word is precious and demands worlds of attention (that, and homework is deviously getting in the way of my reading time), and, as such, I'm only just over halfway done. And what an amazing half it is, too.
Right, I feel like an infomercial now. Sleep.
*Louis Carroll; "The Walrus and the Carpenter"