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April 30th, 2007

Last night's sleep was ... rough at best. Starting around 3:00 a.m., and with no discernible cause, I started waking up frequently, and even when I was asleep I was having noisy dreams that kept me from getting rest. I don't remember most of them now, but I remember there was one about a very normal contemporary suburban elementary school that just happened to be sitting on a snow-swept mountaintop, and there was another about a CHAMPIONS campaign I was going to run in which the mastermind villain called himself "Deuce" and was actually Two-Face, in his eighties and still batty as a bedbug -- and I was debating with the police NPCs from the campaign the details of Two-Face's headquarters and what "powers" should represent the various gadgets therein. I was also trying to figure out a way to work Dr. Destroyer into it.

When morning came, in my dazed half-sleeping state, I tried to explain to laurie_robey how I felt after these nocturnal adventures, and having fallen asleep without realizing it I told her, "It's like I had coffee before bed so I could watch the squirrels bounce." Which simultaneously makes no sense whatsoever, yet perfectly captures exactly how I feel.

Ermf. Gonna be a long day. -.-

-The Gneech

Fictionlet

"There's a cricket in here again," said Brigid.

"Eh?" said Greg, tapping away at the keyboard.

"Cricket. In the kitchen again."

Greg looked up, then shook his head as he heard the telltale breep, breep. "Honestly," he said. "Where are the little buggers coming from?" He got up and headed for the kitchen.

"I dunno," said Brigid. "I guess up the pipes or something. Or maybe under the door. Why you keep just putting them outside instead of squashing them--"

"There's no reason to go squashing them," Greg said, fishing a plastic food container out of the pantry. "Yes, they're annoying, but if being annoying carried a death sentence, all of us would have been sent to the firing squad long ago. And it's not like the same ones keep getting in."

"How would you know?" Brigid said. "Have you tagged and numbered them?"

"Well, no, actually, now that you mention it. But some of them have been distinctive enough -- missing a leg here, or having extra-long antennae there. I'm pretty sure we're not getting repeats, or if we are, they're in the minority." He plunked the food container over the cricket and slid a piece of cardboard underneath, trapping the six-legged noisemaker and carrying it to the door.

Brigid opened the door for him. "Feh," she said. "You're just squeamish."

"Me?" said Greg, tossing the cricket out into the open-air corridor. "You're the one who won't go near them. Anyway, think of it as trying to build up my karma bank, if it pleases you."

"Whatever," said Brigid, and closed the door. She headed back for her couch, as Greg sat back at his computer.

Thirty seconds later, a breep, breep noise came from the kitchen.

"There's a--" started Brigid.

"Yes, yes, I know," said Greg, and reached for the plastic container again.

-The Gneech

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