Lack of sleep and nightmares

Today is Thursday. I think. Well the calendar says that it is but it feels like Wednesday. But that could be because I had to work late yesterday, which was hectic, and so I didn’t feel like I actually experienced Wednesday. It’s important to experience each day. So you know where you are. In the scheme of things. In the passage of time. So you don’t get lost. In time. Today I just don’t seem to know what I am doing. That’s it. Yes. Buttons are falling off cardigans. I can’t put a sentence together without corrupting it. My brain feels like tempered mush. I need sleep. I need to stop speaking in movie quotes in my head. That’s not helping either. People will talk. That girl, she speaks in movie quotes they’ll say. Damn I am tired. Why is it that my brain decides to switch on only at 11pm? Ruining my slumberland adventures with its monotonous list of boring bloody tasks. Why at 11:34pm am I thinking about buying cat litter? Then when I finally get to sleep my brain attacks again. This time with Zombies. Deep in my sleep, eyes closed, chest rising and falling peacefully, not a care in the world until the ravening hordes of undead surround my house, which is for some reason now two stories high with a veranda, blocking the path to my car, which has also transformed into a 4WD of some sort. Black of course. To hide the blood stains of the undead who are busy wiping their bleeding torsos down its side as they crowd my driveway. And where are the cats now? How can they expect me to recuse them if they refuse to come when called. I search frantically around the house as I hear the glass door of the veranda shatter. Then suddenly I am in my car. Bloody magic! I can teleport. This is fantastic. So why didn’t I teleport myself to somewhere without zombies? Brain you have failed me! At least I have the cats with me in the safety of the car. Their meows penetrate the gloom of the car interior. They are very loud. Too loud. I awake as the alarm goes off. Beside my bed are too furry minions, piously crying out for their breakfast. You’d never know they scratched the crap out of the couch in the middle of the night or broke the modem …. again. I wake to another day. It’s Thursday isn’t it? I think it is. The calendar says that it is...