Delirium.

So, here I am. It is 4:28 AM and I am as wide awake as I was at noon yesterday. I had a terrible headache, and being smart, I took some medicine.

Guess which chick didn't read the side effects?
Yep. This one.

About two hours ago, when I got off the phone, I tried sleeping. It turned into that terrible looking-at-the-clock-every-minute thing. Excruciating. Minutes seemed like years. My mind was running rampant.
Not to say that it has stopped since then.

But anyway. I go and check the box of the medicine I'd taken. It claims to have "the same amount of caffeine as one cup of coffee."
I don't know what kinda coffee these folks are talking about, but it surely isn't any coffee I've ever dealt with. I am wired. And for those of you who know me, you know that sleep is immensely important in my life.
I. Love. Sleep. I could sleep for days and be satisfied. But tonight?
Not happening.

I've tried everything. Singing songs, yoga breathing, attempting to clear my mind. I got up, took my contacts out, put my retainer in. Read three chapters in the book of Matthew. Facebooked. Twittered. Tried to make myself do that almost-dream thing that usually leads to sleep.
Nothing. Nada. I find myself wondering if I'll sleep at all. I have to go get my car fixed in a few hours, after all.

She died, again. But that's another story.

There's something to be said for the things one thinks about in the early morning hours that would probably never occur to that person in daylight. For instance, I'm pretty sure I've come up with solutions to most of the issues in my life in the past year..excuse me, hours..that I've been awake.

My brother talks in his sleep, y'all. Not the funny kind where a person talks about funny things. The creepy scary kind that doesn't involve real words at all. Just a kind of moaning. Normally, this doesn't bother me. Because I am usually NOT AWAKE.
My sister just rolls around in her bed, making noises that suggest that a person is crawling through a window or something.

Also, I'm now fairly certain that there is something very fast, and nocturnal, with tiny clawed feet running around in the attic of my house. Right above my room. More specifically, right above my head. It sounds like someone rapidly ripping shingles off one at a time.
I do hope whatever it is stays up there, and doesn't decide to join me down here.

It is now 4:45. The last time I saw this number on a clock was when I had to wake up insanely early to go somewhere. I am not okay with this, if you've caught on by now. I am incredibly hungry to top it all off. But will I go get food?
No.
Because the second-to-last stair of my staircase creaks like something is dying. It would not only scare me, but wake up the household. "Why not skip that stair?" you ask. Because I would fall and bust myself.

So here I lie. Lay. Whatever. Listening to the rain and my stomach growling. About to resort to cleaning my room.
It's that serious.

I'm going to be a zombie today. Not even the cool kind, either. I might actually be forced to put on makeup to look presentable.
At least I don't have school. That's surely a blessing. But anyway, I'm going to do some more deep breathing in lieu of actual sleep. Maybe I can fool my brain into thinking the two things are the same. We'll see.

Have a good day,
Sorry if I yell at you later on.

From the pits of insomnia,
Lovingly,
Anna.

What a world.

This blog post.
This one right here?
It's about sex.

Disclaimer: My opinions, my views. You don't have to agree with me.

And now that you're paying attention, I'll begin. 
I was watching Say Yes to the Dress on TLC  (I'm a fan of wedding dresses. Oh, look at this irony that's about to happen.), and I saw an advertisement for a new show called "The Virgin Diaries." That preview lasted all of two minutes, but it was enough to get me angry.
It portrayed these people as completely awkward, weird, strange losers. Because they'd chosen to not have sex before they were married.

Now I am plenty weird, strange, and awkward. But none of that has anything to do with the fact that I am a virgin.
Could our society be any more self destructive? Why would this show make sense to anyone? With so many children in America in orphanages, with such a high rate of abortion, and with my state being number one in STDs and teen pregnancy, why in the WORLD would anybody be endorsing a television show that turns a sure-fire way to avoid all of those things into a joke?

If everyone is telling everyone else that virginity is something embarrassing and something to be ashamed of, how can there be any hope?
Virginity isn't like getting your hair cut, or buying a new pair of shoes. It's a serious thing. And the media makes into something everyone's racing to get rid of.
My favorite show, Glee, lost serious cool points with me because of how they treated sex. Sex is not a right of passage, it's supposed to be an expression of love and commitment between two people.

Okay, to address a myth that this "Virgin Diaries" show seems to be expounding upon. Just because a person is a virgin, that does not at all mean that that person isn't a sexual person. Virgins aren't a seperate "breed" of person that cringe at all mention of anything over a PG-rating or think of the opposite sex as something scary. God made humans as sexual beings.
For a reason.
Not so we can run around sleeping with whoever we happen to want to, but so we can enjoy sex with our future spouses. Y'all know this, right?

So, for all the people reading this that still have it: Don't apologize for that fact. Don't be looking for ways to get rid of it. Be proud of yourself. Save your virginity for somebody who deserves it.

This isn't supposed to be a post hating on people that have sex. I'm not anybody's mama, nor am I anyone's judge. I can only speak for myself.

And that was me, speaking for myself.