This insomnia thing is getting a little out-of-hand. I have seen the sun both set and rise for several days in a row. I am not even doing anything productive, like going out to milk a cow in the cold morning air. There is, in case you had not heard, a definite dearth of cows in Brooklyn.
Instead, I am spending my time reading snippets from other people's lives here on Diaryland. I have never found anything that enables my exhibitionism and voyeurism at the same time so effectively. And I am making macaroni and cheese. I have a feeling that the number of people in the world who make macaroni and cheese at 6:30 am is fairly low -- I positively revel in my unique gustatory habits.
I have come to the conclusion that my diary is far more somber than my real life. Not to say that it is particularly somber, really -- well, excepting the beginning and all -- but when compared to my face-to-face interactions with people, this diary has found a voice that is much more subdued than my usual. I think that I enjoy this; it gives me an outlet for my seriousness, so I can remain my bubbly, effervescent self in person.
In boy-related news, my friends have apparently approved this plan: Girl&GirlCouple, Boy&GirlCouple, and OtherBoy&GirlCouple use the facade of a game of Trivial Pursuit to secretly compete in the "Let's Make The Two Gay Boys We Want To Set Up Feel Pressure From Being Surrounded By So Many Couples!" game. There is nothing quite like being a seventh wheel.
I just spent a considerable amount of time trying to decide why my macaroni and cheese was an odd beige color, instead of the usual, wholesome, nuclear orange. Then I realized I had forgotten to add the cheese packet. Oy.
Possibly I have surreptitiously evolved into a being that does not require sleep. I will go ponder this while I eat my newly-cheesed macaroni.