help! get me out of this place!

It's three in the morning, and despite the fact that I'm tired and have a writing session planned for tomorrow, there's no way in hell I can go to sleep in my own bed in my own goddamn apartment. How could that be? Am I suffering from insomnia? Is there some kind of raucous party going on downstairs, or in this very place, for that matter? Has there been a rip in the space-time continuum just outside my bedroom window? No, there are four (only four!) people drinking and chatting out on our patio. So, what's the problem? Four people talking? What's the big fucking deal, right? Well, due to my own selfishness in wanting to move out of Los Angeles for two months, I had to give up my room in our two bedroom apartment and have now regulated myself to the loft, which has no privacy whatsoever and is situated on the way to the patio. That means that whenever a few people want to go get a choice view from our very nice corner apartment, they have to walk right through my "bedroom."

Upadate: I started this blog way back in March of 2005, and have since then moved. Twice. Now I'm in a studio in Echo Park, and while I have all the privacy in the world and I can go to sleep whenever, I still don't sleep all that often. Now I just stay up at night and write stupid blogs over at myspace. Why I'm actually finishing this rant right now, long after I got out of that place, I don't know. Guess I just wanted to publish another blog without having to think of anything to say. 'Cause honestly, I have a terrible fucking hangover. Oh, wait. Maybe I'll write about that now. Maybe.