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February 04, 2002 :: 4:03 a.m. sleep tight, don't let the psychos bite... or something... *yawn* I can't believe it's four already. VH1's Insomniac Music Theater has been keeping me company. They usually play decent videos at this hour of the morning, but lately that stupid Creed video has been about the only thing on. Seriously. I go from one music station to the next, hoping to escape Scott Stapp (sp?) (who, might I add, looks entirely too much like a basset hound) and his band of whining miscreants, only to find that it's in extremely heavy rotation on all of them. There's no escaping it. I keep thinking that there's someone in the hallway, peeking in and watching me. There isn't, of course, I just tend to imagine things like that. Whenever I'm alone and/or it's dark, I become irrationally paranoid about strange men hiding throughout the house, waiting to slice me to bits and string me up like garland on their fake christmas trees. Because you know, psychos keep their christmas trees up all year. Or not. I think we still have ours in the backyard somewhere. The moral of this story, then, is that I'm very tired and am going to sleep now. Oh, and I enjoy Nicole Kidman. I think it's her accent. Wait, there's more!
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