I really could have done without that. I was just typing a post, not five minutes ago, and my computer here just decided it was going to freak out. That's lovely. Lucky for me, I'm so tired I don't even remember what I wrote, so I'm pretty much just starting over right now, but it's as though I didn't write at all... Nevermind. Okay. So, as I was saying, still no sleep. It's been eighty-two hours and only ten of those have involved some unpleasant form of sleep. I attempted yesterday afternoon around 5pm, but I kept waking up crying because of these horrible dreams I was having. They were terrible, and they still make me want to cry. So I eventually gave up, and decided maybe I'm just really not capable of sleep anymore. I really should lie down, however, because I've almost collapsed about three times this morning. I just cleaned the house. I felt like a machine. I have an art exam today, and am not looking forward to that. I haven't studied. I keep crying. It's almost exasperating. Yesterday, when I went to "sleep," my cat came and lied (I don't know if that's grammatically correct anymore.) down next to me because she noticed I was crying and sad. She purred and licked my knuckles, because she loves me and knows that I love her. And I told her all that was going on with me. I knew she'd understand. Cats know everything. There are important things I should be doing right now, like studying, but I just can't. I keep writing and writing and writing. Apart from the time I spent cleaning the house, I've been in a constant state of writing and working on my "journal," and reading what I've written since about two in the morning. That's at least a good six or seven hours. I don't know. I don't know if I can sleep. I have enough caffeine in me to kill a small animal. I don't know if that could happen, but I imagine that it might be something like drinking too much water. Hmmm. I've probably smoked a hundred cigarettes since Wednesday. No joke. I don't know how much longer I can deal with this. I just can't sleep or eat. This is horrible. Just horrible. I wonder if I should even be writing about this. Maybe I'll buy a bottle of wine tonight to "clear my head." Or something. Weird logic. I think I'm going to go cuddle with my cat and tear up while she licks my knuckles. Yes, that's what I'll do.