I have to not slumber deeply because I have to teach in less than an hour. I could not slumber before now because my father was in the final few minutes of his stay with me.

I need to slumber because of the migraine, so I'm going to give it a shot anyway.

Sometimes I sing the duck song when I can't sleep. You know, "Five little ducks went out one day. Over the hills and far away. Mother duck said 'Quack quack quak quack' but only four little ducks came back." Except I start at 100 ducks, like Ezra intended. On my worst nights I don't remember getting past 60 something.

You know, "Five little ducks went out one day. Over the hills and far away. Mother duck said 'Quack quack quak quack' but only four little ducks came back."

And then you start crying and fall asleep from emotional exhaustion over the poor lost little ducklings?

Damn, Nutty, you too? That does verily suck.

Daisy Jane, just reading the duck song is putting me to sleep. You were good in your movie, and also pretty.

• yawn*

Would you learned folks happen to know any Shakespearean (or earlier) slang terms for a gay or effeminate man?

Or maybe you think, "Gee, I wonder if hunters got the ducks? Mmmmm.... duck...."

Well, in the end you quack really loudly and all the little ducks come back. Clearly you have never seen the wonder that is Trout Fishing in America.

Would you learned folks happen to know any Shakespearean (or earlier) slang terms for a gay or effeminate man?

Yorick?

(sorry)

Well, in the end you quack really loudly and all the little ducks come back.

Sure they do, if you stay awake.

Zenkitty, from Wikipedia:

In Elizabethan slang, a Fantastic was a rake; an "effeminate fool" or "improvident young gallant".[citation needed] The character Lucio in Shakespeare's Measure for Measure is described in the Dramatis Personae as a Fantastic.

I just make up stories. Elaborate, sometimes faux-autobiographical ones.

I usually crash before I get any satisfying conclusion. Either that, or, in my insomnia days, working myself into a hysterical why is this not my life?!!! state.

Which wasn't so useful.

I've been tetchy all evening. Well, all day. I know why, but it's really inconsequential in the large scheme of things. Basically, I've called everyone I can call...wait...I haven't! (gonna get offline!) checked the internets incessantly, dusted, mopped, smoked too much, drank more than is reasonable, rearranged shit....

Funny, how I can torture myself not opening gifts for weeks, but reality? Is basically pins and needles and fear.