I had been up all night, working on a paper. It stressed me out to the point of making me sick, and I've felt like shit since then. I'd tell you more about that, but I'd like to keep my readers, all 20 of you.
I turned it in, then came back to my apartment. I was tired, but in an act of defiance, I had determined that I would simply go 30-some hours without sleep, then get to bed around 10, smiling to myself about my triumph over exhaustion.
As I'm sitting on the couch, John came in and sat down. This is likely what I looked like.
Concerned for me as a good friend would be, John suggested that what's left of me should go to bed. I tried to tell him of my plan, but it sort of just came out as "I don't want...yeah....uh.....not going to....incoherentmumbling". He laughed at me, and I sort of resented him for a moment, but then I realized that I really was in a new realm of tired, and looked ridiculous.
I then said "I think I will", though again, not sure if it came out the way I wanted it to.
As I walked into my room and set my alarm for class, I looked up at the top bunk, put my hands on the frame to boost myself up, and realized I couldn't do it. Instead, I simply laid down on the floor, used my backpack as a pillow, and fell asleep.
This is what that looked like.
Yep, blue underwear.
I woke up to a ginger kid looking through my window at me. In my underwear.
Life is strange.
This whole story was simply an excuse for me to draw a picture of myself being creeped on by a ginger kid, while I'm in my underwear, passed out on the floor.
I was bored.
