Why am I awake when I don't have papers to write?

I feel like wearing contacts. No, not right now...though it might be the 3:15 talking.

We started pulling out embarassing videos of ourselves, mainly old shows and classwork, this evening. Really all I have to offer up here are a few random video clips on Merv and the King Arthur video that I'm only in for about three minutes at the top (the Lady of the Lake doesn't do much), and we'd spend the rest of the time explaining who people were and why these things were funny to anyone else. And, naturally, why Melissa had to be the one in the go-go boots.

I was briefly a tree for a sugar glider. Apparently you can't just call them "flying squirrels" anymore. Maybe it makes the other squirrels jealous?

Something outside keeps rattling and scraping in the neverending rain that we've received all day. I don't know what it is though, and--at this time of day--my brain is telling myself that it's all sorts of no-good-ness out to break-in through the large glass door leading from my room to the back patio. I'm torn between completely closing the blinds so no imaginary someone sneaking in through the back can see where I am (instead they can go through the still-lit, yet empty, window of Jessica's room, where the others should have plenty of time to hear and react) and keeping the blinds open so I can see when the people show up. Seeing as my paranoia isn't truly real and is more of the sleepy, addled sort, I think I'll make the executive decision not to care and go to sleep.