Any other insomniacs out there?

OH HOLY CATS.

Tomorrow is the neuro appointment for me, complete with EEG. The nurse called today with a whole huge laundry list of things I need to do to prep for it. Check it out.

• Don't get more than 4 hours of sleep. They need you sleep-deprived.
• Take your meds, but log them all.
• NO CAFFEINE. No coffee, no tea, no energy drinks, no meds containing caffeine.
• Wash and dried hair. No styling products whatsoever.
• No sugar. Eat one meal exactly 1 1/2 hours before the test.

I think this looks like the recipe for a migraine. All they missed were bright lights, strong smells, and Period Week.

I did get special dispensation to skip the meal, which is going to kill me even worse, but it beats eating something and getting into some big machine only to have tummy trouble.

So here I sit, tired of surfing the web and having played every game I know on MSN Games. I'm not into painting tonight, and I'm too tired to formulate a thought, so I can't work on my manuscript. I'm down to blogging (and that should tell you what kind of grand and intelligent ideas I'm committed to putting out into the ether for posterity), and listening to music. In an effort to keep myself awake, I put on my most energetic music. Bless your handsome little hearts, Gabe Saporta and Cobra Starship. I'm feeling pretty punchy. I've been air-drumming since track number 3. It's track number 11 now and we're moving on to Katy Perry soon. Hmmmm. That song has a pretty kicking little drum line too. I may be on to something...

B's been in bed since 8. He's not feeling well today. I noticed this morning he had the sniffles; tonight his sinuses are hurting and he has a sore throat. I hope he feels well enough to go tomorrow. If not, I can drive myself. It wouldn't be the first time I've done it. It's only an hour and 15 minutes away.

My poor baby... how I wish I could go in there and curl up next to him, but I have an hour and a half to go. The morning alarm's set for 5:30. I CAN DO THIS. Heck, I can remember pulling all-nighters as a young'un. Am I getting THAT old? At 39, have I drifted into decrepitude, or is it just that over the last year my body's adjusted its sleep rhythm to B's?

In other news, the cat is up here giving me a kiss while trying to sit on the laptop. Maybe that's all I need: some sandpaper kitty nose-kissies.

Lordy. I had something interesting to post earlier, and it's totally slipped me. I feel like a science experiment.

Sure looking forward to Saturday morning.