I haven't been sleeping.

And I know what you're going to suggest, but work is far too busy (and surprisingly enjoyable) to make up for lost naps. I may actually take the unprecedented step in my family of willingly seeking out a doctor (Our family motto: Mortalis ante Medicus), because I can't keep getting to sleep at 3 when I have to get up at 6... 6:15... 6:25... 6:33... 7:14... snooooozzee........
I suspect that only a small part of this is due to my penchant for reading zombie graphic novels and books on... um... child soldiers in Sierra Leone before I sleep. I've always read books on a variety of subjects, and I haven't always been getting to sleep when the birds start to sing again (Sample song: "Ooooooooooooooooooohhh..... It's morning but not yet because it's still dark but the sun's going to be up real soon, and I looooooooooooooooooooooove to sing-a..... And good lord ain't I cute on this little branch with my adorable feaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaathers.....")
I think it may be the new job. Not that I don't love it, because I really, really do. It's just that (shockingly) it can be a bit sad working in a cancer centre sometimes. Sometimes there are bad days, and I wouldn't be able to do my work if I let it get to me then, so... It percolates. And then it hits when I finally get to lie down and "not" think.
Ha. I have yet again avoided the doctor... MORTALIS ANTE MEDICUS! WHOOT!

Not a pity party....

But I hate father's day. If I see one more goddamn poster of a father helping his child to learn how to play catch, or holding their kid with that maniacally proud parental grin on his face... F**k it. Thank God it's only once a year.