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Your eyeballs feel like someone spent a good part of the evening sandpapering them. Your mouth may or may not taste like an ashtray, but you do know there's something akin to spackle gluing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. You are no longer thinking in sentences, merely fragments. The three voices in your head went out and invited at least two buddies each to come over for breakfast. You jump at every sound. Birds chirping outside sound pompous and grating. Your skin looks......really awful...taking a bath doesn't make you feel THAT much cleaner. Driving seems like a perilous endeavor. Light is very sharp and painful. And the floor? It looks like the softest featherbed ever made.

Consequences due to hangover, possibly tripping the night before, insomnia, or that insane idea that, "I really like to stay up all night sometimes. It's good for me." Or was it that 3000 word philosophy paper you put off for three weeks and is due in two hours?

Creative sleep patterns. Humph.

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