Up-All-Night Journal, Page 4

4:22 AM: Hugh Grant and Elizabeth Hurley are beginning to become one person. I am currently sitting on the office floor staring at the computer and wondering what in the hell I am doing. I see Robbie’s bear. Apparently, he “forgot” to raffle it off. Why is that tube of Old Spice High Endurance Red Zone sitting next to Robbie’s computer? I hope Katherine finds a man soon. I wear my sunglasses at night. Sekhar needs to meet a nice girl his own age and work his magic on her. I bet he is really hot out there in his sweatpants. I think Sekhar and Akshar should teach other Indians the value of good hygiene. Grace is happy; she just got her hands on some nuts. Peanuts.
-Jeff

5:00 AM: I need to get my CD. Who knew a little bag of spicy peanuts would have 25 whole grams of fat? That’s ridiculous! Purpling is maddening. Pie looks crazy. Simple sentences good. Kathryn and Ashley here. Eww, here’s icky. Here’s Bret, I mean. That crust looks good; should I ask Jessie? I smell pie. Ashley no like game. Crust in Bret’s hair, sorry. Ink on Bret’s shorts, sorry x2. It’ll come out. I am being called by computer. I will do very badly, but it’s calling me.
-Grace

5:07 AM: Time Check; laundry is finished and put away in its place so that I can pack it all in about 3 hours from now. How surreal and somewhat stupid sounding. But it makes perfect sense to me. Sometimes I really envy others’ sense of slef-confidence. Can I project that, too? What time will this break up? The dance was awesome. Dancing until 5 AM. Rock on!

Haiku:

The laundry is done

Now we can start the packing

I want some water.

I just found out I have to go to the Amtrak station in the morning. Maybe Dr. Johnson will go. I don’t know where Amtrak is? Why is the music louder now than during the dance? Is this is all in my head again? To quote a Beatle, “here comes the sun.” At least one more entry to come.
-Robbie

5:24 AM: There’s a giant cockroach on the faculty side of the sixth floor. It’s been dead for quite some time now, and it’s facing belly-up. Or is that thorax-up? My entomology terms aren’t so sharp. I wonder what made that huge cockroach die. Certainly not my residents.

Dancing is over now; only a select few are going to make it all the way through to the complete No Sleep tour. That probably wasn’t the most coherent sentence I’ve ver made. Not roving is pretty fun; at least I don’t have to deal with the intense purpling. It has taken me a long time to write these words. I think I may take a shower, so it will give me that extra energy boost. The next few hours will be the hardest to stay awake through. I’ve been sitting too long; the words aren’t coming. Must move around, for this is not helping. Definitely the hardest part—we may have lost Robbie. He’s asleep in the chair. The office is like our last bastion of being awake. I’m going to miss the office, too. It was such a nice office, too. I wonder if I could come back to Buskirk later and try to see if it was the same way, but it would be so different.
-BS

6:35 AM: Just about over; the pen’s ink isn’t writing so well. Probably from Grace’s leg. [an ink blot] (An attempt at freeing up the ink.)

A shower has helped the sleepiness lots, but it has taken hold. Since GHA is essentially over, if I take a nap after meetings and stuff, it doesn’t count, right? Coming up on 24 hours. Most things don’t make sense now. Ashley is bursting with caffeine and energy—she gets on a bigger high the longer she stays up. Robbie’s nearly comatose; Thomas didn’t sleep. Assorted students didn’t, either. The night was clearly much shorter than I first anticipated. Writing going slow, downhill. Grace probably fell asleep in the shower or something. Woops, nope. She just walked down. She wants to write something. I guess I’ll let her. Sign-out begins…sometime. I bet my parents aren’t even awake yet, but maybe they are. GHA is great, and I like it very much. I could do this RA-type thing next year; we’ll see if I can work it in. I’ll sign off for now!
-BS

7:02 AM: Took a shower. My parents will be here in 2 hours. I don’t wanna take the time away to write, but I want to. NO SLEEP. CANNOT SLEEP. I am getting sad. Bret is falling. It’s too late to lose him now. BRET WAKE UP NOW. Okay, I’ll write my final farewell later. Bret is bitching.
-Grace

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