I can see my breath right now, even though I have the space heater on at full blast. I've got my orange scarf wrapped around my neck and I'm wearing this wool overcoat that I forgot I even had. I think I'm going to sleep in them.
My friend Matt Streets said that I could have his space heater too, because he lives in a basement apartment that has a wonderfully toasty metal pipe running along the ceiling in every room.
Last night I went to sleep at midnight, but I woke up exactly two hours later because I ate some bad leftover Christmas lasagna for dinner, and it didn't want to be in my belly anymore. Holy Jesus, I really thought I was DYING. I mean it. All I could think about was a pack of slimy yellow gremlins hacking at my stomach with little shovels.
I couldn't get to sleep for another two hours after I killed all of the gremlins, no matter what I tried to do. I tried counting popsicles- first green, then yellow, then blue... But that just made me bored. I tried doing some calistenics to burn off some energy, but after about three minutes I felt ridiculous so I stopped. Eventually I just wrapped myself up in my blankets again and planted my head about an inch away from my space heater, and the next thing I knew I was knocking everything off of my desk, blindly scrambling to find my alarm clock.
In which I shamelessly abuse the internet.
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