Good middle-of-the-night, awesome Moxie-Dude readers!
As you know, I suffer from serial sleep-deprivation. “Serial” in the way that it happens night after night after freaken night. It’s all good though because while I’m good enough during the day to get all my stuff done, I’m also less likely to be a full fledged serial killer. (You need a lot of energy and an alert mind to pull that shit off.)
Alas, enough with the ramblings. I want to talk to you about old habits. Not the I-smoke-a-pack-a-day type of old habit but the I-take-a-flying-leap-back-into-bed type.
Yes, I still do this. And I’ve tried to climb into bed like the adult that my driver’s license says I am but something just comes over me as I walk back into my room when it’s 2 a.m. It’s like my ankles can feel the hands that are hiding under my bed.
Catch you later, awsomenesses (which apparently is NOT a word). I’m off to try to draw something for you . . .
They call me Pablo. Just kidding. No one calls me Pablo.