I don’t think I’ve ever been this manic in my whole life.

Would I have historically been this hyperactive a person had I never been a smoker? I wonder. Would I have been this irritating? God, I hope not.

I certainly hope my irritating factor is going to begin to wane soon, because I can only imagine just how annoying I must be. I am a pacer, a constant texter, a gum-chewer (GOD I hate gum and the chewers of gum), and a babbler. I don’t know what to do with myself and cannot sit down for more than eight seconds at a time.

Last night I finally had it with the insomnia and dosed myself with three two hundred-milligram Trazodones in order to finally knock myself the hell out. I slept for nine hours, waking up at two-hour intervals, but falling pretty quickly back asleep. Finally the bags under my eyes are looking less like large, ominous, garment bags and more like small makeup bags.

I don’t know what to do with all this unaccustomed energy. I would bake, but then I would undoubtedly eat everything I made.

I would run more, but my muscles are screaming.

I would write, but my mind is absolutely scattered.

I hope this starts to abate soon and that I’m not going to be a freaking hype for the rest of my non-smoking career.

I was under the mistaken impression that cigarettes were a stimulant and actually raised one’s blood pressure, when it appears that the opposite is true.

I had no clue.

I have absolutely nothing of consequence to say today, and I can’t sit down any longer.

Happy Wednesday.

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