WHY AM I NOT TIRED

I have every reason to be. To have fallen asleep hours ago and have woken up and fallen back asleep at least once. That’s the sort of thing that’s expected when flying thousands of miles around the world for more than a dozen hours and crossing the international dateline into what was literally the future when I FaceTimed with my fiancée earlier and would be an even more surreal version of the same were I to hop in my brother’s Discord channel where as I write this it’s a quarter to three in the morning for him and a more rigid interpretation of time would mean that I am still somewhere over the Pacific, due to land at AKL in a little over four hours after the game of Division 2 that he and his friends are currently playing and leveling up in without me.

All that aside, I performed far beyond the bounds of good taste today. I walked. I stopped. I walked more. I stood and checked my phone. I got swept up in a socialist march against racism. Then I CONTINUED WALKING. For a total of at least six and a half kilometers, according to the hyper-accurate pinky finger-length survey of Google Maps I just conducted. That’s more than four miles! Walking anything approaching even half a mile since 2015 has just made me angry at the inefficiency of human legs as compared to bicycles.

I ate half of a massive plate of beef fried rice after all that. Which, admittedly, was chased down with half a bottle of what the nutrition label translates as “PEAR JUICE WITH ROCK SUGAR TEA” that may have counteracted the onset of exhaustion with its 918kJ of Energy per 550ml bottle. That’s in addition (I’m assuming) to the 36.9g of Sugars.

But still.

I got maybe six contiguous hours of sleep on the plane ride, with maybe a couple additional 1-2 hour fits squeezed in underneath the adopted blue and orange beanie that was taking the place of my sleep mask which had been forgotten in the backpack I’d resolutely stowed mere feet above the beanie’s stately orange pom.

I can feel a slight heaviness when I blink, now; the fingers of a deep, dark slumber starting to massage the sides of my eyes in their sockets. But I also feel like I could go out and walk around for another hour or two taking photographs of this new mirror world in its nearly empty neon Sunday nightlife!

I just looked at the bed.

It looks

soft