After writing the previous entry, I had a fag, got ready for bed, listened to The Darkness a few billion times, read a bit and then decided I wasn't sleepy so I got up again and did some writing. Then I got seriously sleepy - I don't remember ever being so sleepy, my eyes were closing over the computer - and had a hallucination. I hallucinated that I was drinking out of a bottle of Sprite, but I couldn't hold the bottle or get any out. It wasn't until about half an hour later that I realised that the bottle of Sprite didn't actually exist.
When I realised, I went downstairs to get some actual Sprite, but it turned out we didn't have any, so I ended up having a glass of 7-up, half a bottle of Cherry Tango and some cheese - the cheese made me think of Pooka and our midnight cheese-eating escapades, and how much I loved them. I wondered if I'd ever again have a boyfriend who gets depressed and eats cheese with me late at night to recover. I doubt it - I think those are quite rare as far as boyfriends go. Rare is good.
I thought I must be hallucinating again. Girls are meant to think that their exes are complete tosspots.
Anyway, got back to bed, carried on reading my book, which is called "It's OK, I'm Wearing Really Big Knickers!" and is hilarious, then I decided I'm still not sleepy and got up and wrote this.
This looks like a seriously boring entry, but the hallucination thing did kind of, like, scare me shitless. Maybe it's the fags doing it, must give up - oh sod it, I could do with another one.
But I must NOT do this tomorrow night (tonight now, actually) - boyfriend to meet at 12:00 in Brummieland and waking up while he's there waiting for me will not be very good at all. Maybe he'll go off me? I doubt it. As Georgia Nicolson says, "I am the girlfriend of a Sex God!" - am I? Methinkso. That's comforting. :)
- k.s. x