I must have a belligerent and obstinate Bruce Willis in my head telling me I don't need to regulate my sleep, or I would have been successful by now. Ah, but then I realize that all the cool people worth talking to log on at about 9:00 PM my time, which means they're on when I technically shouldn't be.
So, Bruce Willis in my head tells me that I must be up too, yippie ki-yay mutherfucker. This wouldn't normally be a problem, since I'm unemployed and living with my folks (oh god did I just admit that publicly?); however, the parental units have begun to suspect that I am dabbling in Satanic worship.
What to do, about this catch 22? Hey, that rhymed. *flex*
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