Interlude – Concussion Protocol

Please somebody come round and hit me over the head with something heavy and blunt (like perhaps my wit which, tonight, is anything but light and sharp) to knock me out and put me to sleep.

This is ridiculous. I now seem to sleep one night out of three which means I have zero energy to run (if I ran I’d sleep, I know) and I crave carbs all day (I’d crave protein if I ran, I know, and if I ran, I’d sleep, yes, I KNOW! Aren’t you just so smart?). Therein lies the rub, or run, as it were.

Vicious fucking circle. Or cycle? Which is it?

I’m hungry and I feel sick. Exhausted but jittery. Nervous (I don’t know what about) and… I’ve just realised I haven’t had the Burn for a while. When was the last time? A bit of the IceSweats but none of the PricklyBurn. Result. I’m so happy with this realisation!

I’m going to go celebrate with a bowl of Donut Shaped Multigrained Breakfast Cereal, or SeeYaNows! As we might call them here in Hiberno-Englishland. Even though it’s three thirty in the morning.

Shit, carbs. And sugar.

Sugar equals false energy. False energy equals no sleep. No sleep equals no run. No run equals crave sugar. Sugar equals no sleep.

FUCK!

Somebody concuss me.

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