Countdown: 2 days

I haven’t been able to sleep through the night in over a month, and I was starting to look like someone had punched me twice in the face. My phone was like, nice try, ugly, and wouldn’t open with facial recognition for three days. “You look terrible, you should take a nap,” my mother said as she dropped off a rescue chicken for us to babysit for the weekend. Yes, you know what is good for napping? BABY CHICKENS.

That’s ok, I’ve never been able to nap anyway. She took the noise machine back on Sunday, and I caught five consecutive hours of sleep. Phone finally let me in again. Yesterday I went for a long run, because at this point “you can sleep when you’re dead” sounds like a plan. Slept six hours. Joke's on you, circadian rhythm; humans are persistence hunters, and I'm catching up.

Flying out on Thursday morning. I have to check a bag because of my oil paints, and it's eighty-fucking-dollars on Hawaiian Air, so I crammed everything into the biggest suitcase we have and I'm just going to travel with a purse and a book like someone who doesn't give a shit if all their underwear ends up at the wrong airport. It's a nonstop flight, if they lose my suitcase I'm going with it anyway.

Getting in around 4pm Thursday.