Four hours of sleep, I could do this. I bet I could do this once a month. Shit, I could do this once a week without getting the flu or becoming susceptible to mind control or going off my rocker, as long as I ate fresh cabbage and made sure to dose up on some propolis and took frequent wolfnaps. It's not no sleep and that's something. Yeah, I feel great. Like I've been up all night, wide awake.
A bit fucked up, okay, you're right. Okay, more than off. Skewered around the edges, torque gnashing inside me, there's this fuzz to my vision that's more dream than day, but nothing too bad man, I can do my job. I can do today. Actually, the longer I do my morning routine, the better I feel. I bet I'll even forget, I bet I'll be driving a client on 19th Ave, pause in mid-chat to remember that I'm running on empty but I'll feel great, like this is nothing, like I don't need sleep, it'll slip my mind that all I'm running on is late-night Raph and dream reserve, but that's all I need. I can do today.
It's just these first few minutes that are the worst. By the end of today I'll have broken into rhythm, running smooth as milk. I look nauseous? Yeah, I feel like vomiting. No, I'm fine, I'm fine, haha! sometimes I hate feeling rested, gets boring, gets all mundane. What did you do last night? Oh, just had another boring good night's rest. Nothing like appreciating sleep when you haven't had it. Gratitude, man, today's gonna be all about gratitude, that's what's gonna happen. I gotta go.