8:08 p.m. - March 14, 2002
flip the switch
So tired. I got into Boulder's college of arts & sciences, if not the music program, but that's better than nothing.
I noticed at times today that I couldn't keep my eyes focused and eventually had to close them because they kept jumping around. I don't remember what dark looks like because I've been sleeping with the light on. Nightmares of the feverish really are strange. The first night it was fighting with Mike and Camille to see who would get to stay sitting on a rope high above the ocean. The second night it was finding my way through a condominium without being eaten by midgets. The third night I didn't sleep. And the fourth, last night, I was being attacked by supermodels. Each time I have to force myself, against the nausea, to sit up against my little pillowy thing and read a book to keep my mind off the midgets, or the supermodels. Usually Dave Barry, he's the best for distraction.
I'm supposed to go back out tonight, but suddenly I'm dead dead tired and just want to curl up in my bed and turn off the fucking light, I don't need to read tonight.

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