Awake

The clock's just struck 10am. For some unknown reason I woke up at 2:30 this morning. I've been awake pretty much for the last seven and a half hours, less a few random minutes of unconsciousness that occured between 5am and 6am.

I woke up, not from a dream, not from a nightmare, not even to use the toilet. I just woke up.

I lay there for about an hour. I paced the room. I had a drink. I charged my DS up because it came to me that the battery light came on as I finished my usual levelling up session on Final Fantasy III yesterday evening. I debated getting Blankets out to read (a graphic novel that I could read and re-read, and which definitely falls into the category of books that in one way I wish had been written just for me, and in another I want to tell everyone about how amazing it is - perhaps I will write about it in a separate entry soon) but decided that I should try to sleep.

Try to sleep. There it is, but thinking about it that is a strange expression. Or it seems that way at the moment.

Some ideas for my National Novel Writing Month novel came to me, but I think that they left me between 5am and 6am when I did get a little sleep. They must be in here somewhere. (of course, I'll be writing about National Novel Writing Month very soon, and most likely often throughout November)

I had a pretty good weekend all in all, saw Eastern Promises at the cinema on Saturday (I liked it), and then yesterday noisms and I dissected Star Wars and Revenge Of The Sith ("Why doesn't Anakin use the Force to crack Obi Wan's skull open? Or to pop his eyeballs?"). The week itself isn't off to a bad start, just a strange one.

I just feel here, but not here.