Exhaustion means nothing if you're a voluntary insomniac

I am about to partake of Raviolli (I'm quite positive I've spelled that wrong) that The Brat has made. Funny though, I can't seem to remember whether or not I told her to or not. Must still not be all there from my mild concussion.

And WHY did I have a mild concussion?

Because I ever so suavely fell down a flight of stairs (again).

As if to make sure the horrors of Mondays were suitably impressed upon me, when heading downstairs to leave I slipped backward and tumbled into my closed door. Standing up, I opened my door, unleashing a flurry of loud, outraged curses. Needless to say, The Beast wasn't too pleased with me...though I think that was more for being ungraceful enough to fall down the stairs in the first place.

I did get sort of a deja vu feeling out of it. After all, I have done it about three times at this point.

Anyway, I went to school (evidence enough that I wasn't all there) bumbling like the now-idiot that I was. Even The Brat told me to go home. Still, I didn't. Dangeriously, I participated in gym class.

Heh. We were doing archery.

But hey, I can't resist the urge to use weaponry.

There's more to it, but since I'm lacking the energy to expand on it, I'll give you the quick cliffnotes version of the entire day: woke up, fell, forgot my name in study hall and couldn't sign onto the computer for ten minutes, bled all over a desk in Senior English as I failed to notice a gash on my arm, stared off into space during my Spanish class as I could scarcely speak English, managed my second best score in archery ever (42 out of 54), breezed through what was supposed to be a seven minute presentation on Italy in thirty seconds for Global Marketing, spent the last two hours of school in a dangerously comatose state only to go home and stare at my bedroom ceiling.

My existence is positively riveting huh?

Heh.