What the...sleep much?

Isn't it funny when you think you're really tired, go to sleep, wake up and realize that you've only slept a few hours? After working on that Lindsay Lohan rant, working on my screenplay and getting a call from a friend in Vancouver just shortly after midnight, I was sure I'd be ready for a 8-10 hour sleep, but here I am at 7am, wide awake and doing my usual friday morning online thingy (ie. Read Ebert's new reviews, check out the HBS forums, IM with the usual people on at this time) after only about five hours of sleep.
 
But I sure thought that I slept longer. My dreams are typically very odd, a ramble of thoughts in a particular setting, and then suddenly the setting changes itself and I'm somewhere else on another tangent. Like one of those pesky Godard flicks. heh. I normally don't remember my dreams although images from them (my last night's dream was kind of like a Blake Edwards comedy, with a whole lot of my friends interchanging rooms in a four-star hotel that looked like something out of Metropolis...NO, not what you're thinking by the way) still linger. Who knows, it'll make a great screenplay some day.