Change the channel, I don't like this movie

Rude awakening: 3:30 AM, until 5:00 AM or thereabouts
Fire alarms (false): Two, while I'm in the shower (naturally)
Days to departure: Far too fucking many

The good news is that I went to see the school nurse today who told me that my increasing anxiety attacks are probably "just" the result of severe sleep deprivation, and that the numbness in my hands, the pains in my arms and the sore neck are probably nothing fatal.

Thinking that the latter are probably symptoms of incredibly poor posture (i.e. too much hunching over a hot laptop), I went out and bought a cheap USB keyboard today so I can at least drop my hands into my lap instead of keeping them up at an artificial angle on the desktop. Now if I can just get used to the damn spacing, particularly the shift key which for some reason on U.K. keyboards is a whole extra key away...

I also took the box that used to contain the inflatable bed -- see, there's an upside to being a pack rat sometimes! -- and have used it to prop up my laptop, so the screen is now more or less eye level. I don't have to look down anymore, I'm pretty much looking straight ahead. Let's see if this helps alleviate those worrisome symptoms. I can't wait to get home to a proper, ergonomically designed chair (as opposed to these cheap-ass medieval torture devices I'm sitting on now), proper desks, proper monitors, the lot. Oh yes, and more than two hours of sleep per night.

Honestly, these days I feel like I'm in some sort of race against time. Will I make it home before I'm driven utterly mad? Or die of some tragic, wasting illness? Or, driven to a homicidal rage, rip someone's head off and shit down their neck (prime candidate being that miserable little shit Sonny who lives across the hall)? Only it's nowhere near as fun as the races against time you usually see in a movie. 'Cause at least you know that for all the ups, downs and near-misses, it'll turn out okay in the end.