Eight bleeding pages of legal analysis, DONE!

Hey, what time is it now? Four-thirty in the fucking morning, that's what time it is. Not a time I like to see through sober eyes.

It's not like I've been drinking, but I have been alternately combatting The Ant Invasion and Writing a Memo, aka reading a bunch of made-up shit and extracting from it The Fact Pattern, reading a bunch of cases and extracting The Rule from those cases, applying The Rule to The Fact Pattern, and mashing it all into a highly stylized format, until the ass-crack of dawn, i.e. now. So I guess the word is "punchdrunk." It wasn't as much work as it sounds like...I could have been done way before now if I had a single none-idle bone in my body, and hadn't chosen "Sunday night" as the optimal start time for this project. But that's not the world we live in, is it?

Also, I've been walking barefoot across ant-poison sprayed carpet...i know, i know, genetic anomalies, but what am I supposed to do? I can't wear my sandals all the damn time. Plus I just realized they stink. Man...the concepts "just realized" and "footgear smells like wet laundry left in a pile for a week" really shouldn't ever be in the same sentence, should they.

Yeah, this is pretty much the level of coherence I'm capable of right now. Come on, wind down already so I can go to sleep. For three hours. And then, y'know, "brush up" on the ass-long readings for the ass-long tomorrow.

Wind doooowwwwnn, damn you... y'all are all so lucky I'm not calling you right now. That's pretty much what I feel like doing. Hey, it's daytime in Dan's world! But I don't think he has a phone. Bollocks.