all-nighter
I've just pulled an all-nighter for the first time in … well, a while. Work required it, and my name was on the dotted line, so I buckled in and haven't slept yet.
Aside from the physical symptoms (which are pretty non-remarkable, other than a mild case of OMGWTF from my stomach), I'm finding myself oddly immune to song lyrics and poetic imagery, here in the grey sunshine. Listening to Peter Mulvey, who normally speaks very clearly to me, I find his images … pretty, but somehow distant. Not relevant to the hard physical facts in front of me — shadows and light, typing and sporadically getting up to pee.
Odd.