Feeling: surreal
Listening to: My Funny Valentine
Reading/Watching: Friends reruns

5 AM, the time when no one should ever be awake, because no matter what end of the day you're on, it's either way too early, or way too late.

This is when I was stumbling around the music department in the dark, after falling asleep on the floor and being woken by the loud credits music when Pirates of the Caribbean ended. The rest of the people at the lock-in were still asleep, cuddled into pillows and blankets (which I had neglected to bring), and in my trying to avoid stepping on people, I somehow managed to dip my fingers in cheese dip while searching for my purse and jacket, which were naturally on other sides of the room from each other, across a landmine of fingers and elbows and splayed hair.

Driving home was interesting, on wet roads with my concentration frayed on thirty minutes' sleep. I kept the volume turned up five clicks louder than usual, and driving almost felt like a movie, all silent blackness through the wet windshield while my personal soundtrack roared.

Amy Lee sang alone, though. I was too tired even to hum or sing along, which on the scale of Katie-ness is pretty tapped out, since I usually tend to deafen my passengers. I just let the music drown me and was thankful that no one else was on the road.

But I saw three p'diddles on the way home. That means I get a wish. So now I wish for eight hours of sleep.

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