Monday, December 01, 2003

With the exception of a brief one-hour nap this afternoon, I've been up for 33 hours.

This'll happen again. And again. And again.

I run my body raw and tired.

And then I bitch about it like some sort of martyr.

You do it to yourself, Paul. You do.

And maybe that's why it really hurts?

No sleep 'till Brooklyn.

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