It's 3
AM and you lie in bed unable to sleep. You have a big test tomorrow on
OSPF which you've
spent all day studying for; you've spent half the day studying for. You spent an hour
and a half reading about
OSPF.
Now, two hours after going to bed, you are awake. You listen to the silence of
the night outside turn into the monotonous patter of millions of tiny drops of
water striking the Earth as it starts to rain lightly. This is becoming a common problem;
perhaps you're developing insomnia?
Ow, fuck. What the fuck? Your stomach is knives and acid, Fuck that is some
fucking kind of pain! Ridley Scott's Alien is growing in your gut pain. Ow,
ow, ow, stay still until it stops. Let's review:
Stupid, stupid fuck!
The pain subsides and you make it downstairs, instinctively nailing the light switch in the
pitch black. You pour a glass of
water; your cold pure
savior.
That's gonna fix you right up, pal. The pain returns, and your stomach is a
checmical
burn.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! It passes and you drink some water down. In the bathroom you
grapple with
insanity and
exorcise some demons.
Where's the fucking Advil?
The pain seems to have abated. Now you're looking at 3 hours of sleep (not likely)
and frantic last-minute morning studying before the test. Cakewalk.
I love my Arby's, but she is a harsh mistress.