The problem is that I think my brain is hard wired to start properly functioning at 2:00 a.m. This week, I am more than happy with my written output, but this week I haven't been sleeping either. (This week, I have also been bursting into song more times than I usually do but I don't think that has to do with me not sleeping.)
So the dilemma continues: my most precious words or sleep?
When I was little, my parents never made me have siesta. This is because on the very rare occasion that I was made to nap, they dealt with a kid who wouldn't, no, couldn't sleep at night. On days that I couldn't sleep even when I did not have siesta, my father would walk me around the village till I grow so tired, I'd want to sleep. He usually came home on nights like those with me sleeping in his arms.
And now, I can't think of anything to write next. It figures since it's just 7 p.m.