Flickering lights

The electricity ceasing almost gave me an excuse to forgo yet another chance to write. The truth, however, is that I am not feeling particularly inspired. This is because I am tired. Very tired. The kind of tired where you find yourself walking into a stranger's shoulder without acknowledging, let alone apologizing, to the innocent bystanders. The people of Texcoco are lucky I was not armed with a bicycle: not once, not thrice, but five times tech students have jumped out to avoid certain death by tired girl on bike named Shela (though I attribute this to my careless cycling in conjunction with the undeniable nature of the overly intelligent - Tech students are gifted but are quite awkward in conversation (notably with the opposite sex), sports and even walking (I blame Tech students' undeniable penchant, even of the least geeky students, to fiddle with expensive, newly released how-the-hell-did-you-get-THAT gadgets). I never came that close to any of them and one in particular theatrically dived off the path and into a ball when I was humorously far away).



But no sane biker will hit a pedestrian because of physics: each action has an equal and opposite reaction, meaning bike-human collision results in an accompanying fall of the cyclist and contact with the morning pavement. Therefore, Newton's third law of motion (which Tech students learn in either physics or chemistry) offers a guarantee that I will hit the breaks before you.

I am too tired to sleep. I wanted to curl up in bed around five but remembered my obligation to write a campy skit and made good on my word. For this, I had to wake up and hit a certain threshold. You know, when it is just as well you keep going in the surreal state that is sleep deprivation rather than collapse. My current one is strange as it is caused by physical exhaustion compounded by unexplained, sporadic insomnia. Still, there is no doubt in my mind that when my head hits the pillow I will sleep like a new born puppy.