one, two, three, four. tell me that you love me more...

Having a spare moment in which it occurred to me to dwell on such things, I did the arithmetic and discovered that in the past seven days, I have clocked twenty-one and a half hours of sleep. That's about three hours of sleep a night. And by 'night', I mean late afternoon or whenever I can no longer lift my head from my thesis desk.

This is not healthy. This is not reasonable behavior. But I can't cut back on my hours at work and I can't let up on my writing. Draft is due at the end of the month, and I'm just starting work on my last chapter. Something's got to give.

And apparently that something is my mental health. Yippee skippy.