Sleep Was My Reward

Well, look at me, clocking into this soothing white blank page at 9am. That’s what comes from sleeping Through The Night. One of you must have prayed.

It’s such a curious thing, sleep. On the face of it, it seems like it will be such a waste of time. And besides that, too much resembling death for the loss of control and the total blackout. But when you don’t get it, it’s makes life remarkably bad.

Anyway, so, I don’t really have time to blog now, because of slumbering so long and so well, and needing to do school and stuff. But I have really been enjoying the amazing pictures of women on the red carpet, all gorgeous in black, which is, of course, a sign of mourning and, I gather, protest, and the deep funniness of the whole thing.

I mean, it’s charming. To put on a dress with a plunging neckline, and whole bits cut out and missing, and to pose with hip jutted out and sultry expression, and then protest loudly that It’s Very Bad About All The Sex is what I love best about humanity. I love that we can hold, so comfortably, two contradictory statements together in the self and not see the contradiction, and believe, in fact, that there is none.

This is What we do, it is Who we are. I found myself saying to someone recently, and with sharp venom, “It’s really bad to be angry with people for no good reason.” I was almost spitting with anger as I said it. And I walked away and felt better, and then looked back at myself and laughed.

Anyway, Hollywood is all about the sex–the morally wrong and bad and illicit sex. It’s what the whole industry is about. And so even while they are preaching to themselves that it shouldn’t be about that, their very beautiful bodies give them away. And I find it a delight to observe.

And now, I’m sorry to say, I will have to leave it there and go about my day. Because the only reason I am allowed to write anything is because of all the work I do for the rest of the hours and minutes. This, now cluttery page is my reward, my treat, but because I have it First Thing in the morning, sleep or no sleep, I have to shove myself along so that I won’t feel guilty when the night (at 4:30, sob) falls.

Tomorrow, I promise, I will totes write about Something. Any ideas?