rien ne pèse tant
que un secret.

I've been awake for thirty-eight hours now. I really don't know how - or why - I do these things. I think at one point in the night I think, "Oh... look at that, it's almost six. Might as well not sleep and go on with my day."

Easier said than done, man, easier said than freaking done.

There's stages to this... the tired crankyness, slight hyperactivity, followed by delirium then everything is funny, then you're saying things that don't go together and you're kinda slurring. Like today at the Blackhawks open practice... Krizselle and I were talking about what it would be like to be Amish and I said, "It'd be the saddest day of my life if I had to churn my own butter. I like my butter in sticks or in bowls?"

However, I manage to make the news guy next to me laugh with my psychotic commentary and constant professions of love whenever Toews, Seabrook or Hjalmarsson skated by.

And now I'm torn between faceplanting on my bed and sleeping until the year 2016 or going to finish what I started in AC:B. (You can probably guess what I'll pick...)

Oh, the midnight release was hysterical by the way. Jennifer and the ACEN crew were there... means Marcus and I were verbally abusing each other each chance we go. I still remember the night when we flat out grappled and wrestled while mildly intoxicated. I love them.

Wow, I'm amazed this entire thing makes any type of manner of sense.