Bleary, bleary

If I don't write right now, at this very moment, then I know it wouldn't be written at all.

By the way, January is nearly over. February, in all of its infinite clumsiness, is casting its great shadow over our lives. Prepare ye, prepare ye your schedules of confusion.

Did that sentence make any sense? None to me either.

Oh, I'm so tired. My eyes are bleary, my mind is heavy. This week ends.