Do you know the kind of tired I mean?
The kind of tired that makes toast seem like too much work.
The kind of tired that leads to very bad laundry decisions.
The kind of tired that makes you think, “EVERY kindle should come pre-loaded with a copy of A Prayer for Owen Meany” and if anyone objects to paying extra for that they don’t have to because the rest of us will just subsidize it!” is a GREAT idea.
The kind of tired where you can’t even summon the will to gnaw your foot out of that trap.
Or to ask, “Why is my foot in a trap?”
I’m so tired I don’t even remember what the punchline to this post was going to be, although I’m fairly certain that there was one.
I miss you, too, Overlord II. We’ll be together again soon, I promise!