Currently I feel like this. I've had about four and a half hours of sleep... so what am I complaining about, right? Well, the plan had been to get five and a half hours of sleep. So I'm a bit distraught that I was awoken before I intended to be awake. Having set my alarm for noon-thirty, I was ungracefully awaken by the sound of my dog barking up a storm an hour earlier. It was like an extremely unpleasant alarm that you couldn't hit snooze on.
Yes. Aggravating.
But it's my fault, really... I'm a workaholic and I chose to have a strange and hectic work schedule. Going from a third shift (10:30 PM to 6:30 AM), coming home to sleep for whatever hours I can grasp and then waking up in time to get to second shift (2:15 PM to 10:45 PM) was my own choice. I don't like that choice, but as I keep telling everyone: "Work is work. The hours don't matter to me, because it's a job."
Well, I can really only say that when I'm NOT still half asleep and feeling like the world is spinning marathons around my brain.
It's also a cold morning too... afternoon?... And so it doesn't help that I really just want to crawl back under my covers.
I think this is the most excitement I've had in real life in a LONG time. Well, at the very least it's the most blog-worthy excitement I've had since September... or earlier, I guess since my last two posts were really just elaborating on history. And to be honest, history is just filler right now.
Sad.
***
In other news, I guess I'd never truly mentioned other exciting things. My parents went to Vancouver for a few days to visit and have a mini-vacation. It was great for them and great for us, if only because they got to have a relaxing trip away from home, and I got to learn the horrifying facts about my own brothers' domestic common sense. Apparently, outside of dropping debris in the trashcan, there is very little else they will do in the manner of house chores. Oh wait... sometimes they don't even do THAT either.
This house is like a hotel to them. They sleep, they shower, they sit around and relax, they work on job related stuff, they play... and that's about it. Sometimes they don't even really present themselves at home long enough for me to see them and then other times they come upstairs long enough to tell me that they aren't staying home for dinner. I guess the latter part of that isn't too bad; it means I don't have to cook anything. But then if I don't, when they wake up in the morning and are scrounging through the fridge, there will be no leftovers for them to try to reheat for sustenance.
I pity the women who have to spend the rest of their lives with any of my brothers. Then again, I'm kind of looking forward to seeing it, because those dorks will find themselves shocking surprised that not every girl in this world will be willing to take on their daily domestic chores.
Then again, with MY luck, when any of them DO finally get married, they might miraculously know how to wash dishes and take out the trash. Then I'll just be sneering because right now, it pains me to have to tell them over and over again that trash goes into the trash can and dishes don't wash themselves. "Please, when you open a package or a box, throw away the trash that comes with it, into the trash can." But no, it gets left sitting on a counter or on the kitchen table and all I can do is stare at it and frown really hard, hoping that somehow it'll entice my brother to come back and deposit his garbage somewhere more appropriate.
And so said trash article sits on the kitchen table until I can't take it anymore or Mom shows up to casually toss it into its haven.
***
In other news, I have been steadfastly reading books and watching my beloved drama, Asian style. It irks me that saying the words "Asian drama" comes with some negative connotations of teeny bopper chick flicks, but I guess I have to forgive the masses for being ignorant. Asian drama series encompass the same excitement and wonder as any television series you see on American television; the only differences are the culture and the structure.
So I've been keeping myself quite occupied with fictional worlds. That may or may not be a good thing. My real world consists of work, work, house chores, work, house chores... and then more house chores. Speaking of which, my laundry has yet to be finished even though I started it sometime yesterday...
Book-wise, I've taken on a new genre, although I've realized that the trendy new dystopian fantasies for young adults has been marketed on too extreme. Having finished reading The Hunger Games trilogy, I found myself picking up similar types of stories. But unfortunately, either my first dystopian novel ruined the rest for me, or the rest really just aren't as good because they dive into the same concepts and same ideals with different characters and different situations. Nonetheless, even with an overused cliche, a good book doesn't make you feel exhausted. I just haven't found a good one yet, I guess, to rival my first experience of Hunger Games.
Although it's not like dystopian novels haven't always been around. I think that for me, Hunger Games pretty much brought the idea into a more popular light. So I'll have to keep looking for more books until I can find one that I like.
On a side note, I've had thoughts about writing an essay-like post on my blog detailing the concepts and ideas of dystopian literature... Even had a whole discussion with my brother about it. But outside of "Dystopian literature is defined as (insert proper definition here)...." I haven't quite figured out what else I could write about it. I'm thinking I should at least read some more books and familiarize myself with the subject before attempting anything.
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