Tired

I wish I could find the magical combination of caffeine and slumber that would make me feel truly awake. I'm tired of this somnolent dragging about and lack of energy. I don't know if soporific stress, brain-fogging depression, or simple lack of sleep is to blame, but usually this time of year I have those great, "I feel so alive" moments after dark when I feel as if I could fly away on the sharp air toward the full moon, wafted on woodsmoke and the chill breeze.

Vitamins? Wiccan ritual? Exercise? Danceable tunes? What will be the prince's kiss to waken me?

Two hours later, since this post wouldn't upload:

Naps are magical. I'm not quite at the toe-tapping, get-down stage yet, but I feel alive again. Although two hours is a tiny bit indulgent...

Last Night's Cinematic Pick: Sahara
Saw the movie Sahara last night, after reading the book a few months ago. Cussler is one of my new favourite flavours of pulp. Although McConnaughey is quite delicious, I actually slept through pieces of the movie. Movie compared to novel ratio of interesting was ... um.. nothing. I have a theory that to make the movie they wrote on little slips of paper fifteen things from the book, put them in a hat, stirred them around and plucked them out at random, then strung them together with an entirely new narrative, written by the janitor after the creative team was fired. Or something.

I really don't much like Penelope Cruz at all. Steve Zahn, however, had some dorkishly brilliant moments.