Listening To I Feel For You by Chaka Kahn

I got home last night at about 4:30. Went to bed by about 5. This is all in the AM. It is now 1 o'clock. I just woke up. I have to eat something, get in the shower, and go back to work. It's just one of those two day things that you have to push through. I slept like the dead. When I say that I mean that I didn't wake up throughout the whole night. Most nights I toss and turn, wake up frequently, go to the bathroom, stare at the doorknob of my room, look at the clock, etc. I am not an insomniac. I can fall asleep anywhere at anytime. I love to sleep. I just have a bad habit of repeatedly waking up over and over again throughout the night.
Now that I have gotten my less than sufficient 8 hours of sleep, I have to get up and go back into work. Last night I was walking up the stairs at work and something in my knee "wrenched." Not painfully. I just heard a sort of internal "crunch." My legs hurt a lot. All the time. I dreamt about a foot massage last night. It was weird.
I am sorry. This entry is all about complaining. I don't think that this is even remotely entertaining. I just don't have much creative juices left.
Okay, okay, okay. Something entertaining.........
When my two older brothers were kids they were outside playing. Jason was 5 and Josh was 2. It should be said that my older brother Jason was merciless when it came to attacking Josh. They were outside playing and Jason said "Hey Josh, go pick up that rock." So Josh, being the accommodating fellow that he was, went to pick up the rock. "Jason," he says "squishy rock. Squishy rock!"
The rock was poop. It was not a rock. Poop. Not rock but poop. Poop.
Sigh.
Time to make the donuts.