I’m one of those pesky millennials who tends to do things based on what feels right in the moment without giving much thought to the consequences. Which is why, when I came home from my night shift at Library #1, I stuffed my face with leftover birthday cake and washed it down with the rest of a 2 liter of Cherry Coke without thinking about the fact that I’d be wide awake at 2 a.m. trying to decide if watching one more episode of How to Get Away with Murder would cause me to have another nightmare about a serial killer trying to stab me with a pair of scissors in the library. I decided I should play it safe and blog instead, so I leave you now with this journal entry I found from a year ago about a night much like tonight. Except nerdier. Seriously, it’s basically just a transcript of how much I needed a social life back then:

“All right folks, here’s the deal. It’s 3:06 a.m. I am so wide awake I feel like the skies are tricking me with some kind of solar eclipse scenario and it’s actually 3:06 p.m. Though my awakeness is probably due to the fact I left work early, drank a bunch of coffee and coke, took a bunch of Midol (which is filled with caffeine), and took not one, but two naps. I was trying to catch up on sleep and writing and overall mental health and life organization and the like, but what I really managed to do was continue to screw everything up for the most part. I did get some things accomplished. I mean, besides more online shopping purchases (EMILY YOU HAVE GOT TO STOP WITH THE SHOPPING OH MY GOD THERE ARE LESS EXPENSIVE WAYS TO PROCRASTINATE AND FILL VOIDS), but not enough to be happy I used the rest of my sick hours. Mostly I just reorganized my file folder, shrank some cardigan sweaters in the washer, watched Seth Meyers and Amy Poehler be awesome, and missed the Seth to my Amy Honey Bunches of Oats.  

I’m having my monthly screening* of the Return of the King extended edition in an attempt to cry myself to sleep, but it’s just getting me jazzed up and feeling awesome so that sucks. So I’m trying straight whiskey instead, But that’s only getting me drunk enough to giggle and be even more happy, so fuck this.

Okay Sam holding Frodo on the mountainside when Frodo can’t recall the taste of strawberries and Sam can’t carry the ring, but he can carry him and that background music… it’s making my lip tremble a bit. The plan is back on track.

AHH ARAGORN YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL MAN, YOU FIGHT THOSE UGLY ORC MOTHERFUCKERS! Shit, jazzed up again.

I wonder what Smeagol would look like with all his little stray hairs in a ponytail. Probably a strong resemblance to me with my hair in a ponytail.

Oh man. This soundtrack, though. THE EAGLES ARE COMING!

Is there ever a scene where you don’t want to punch Sam in the nards, just a little bit?

“Don’t let go, Frodo. REACH!” See that, Leo? That’s how you’re supposed to end a movie. You don’t just give up and die just because you’re partially submerged in the freezing Atlantic or dangling over an erupting volcano.

My favorite Sam and Frodo scene is without a doubt this one when they’re laying on the rock while everything falls apart around them and talking about Rosie Cotton and the Shire. “I’m glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee. Here at the end of all things.”

Oh man, remember when Orlando Bloom was hot? It was a short window, I don’t blame you.

Daw, Faramir and Eowyn are going to make such beautiful babies. THEY’RE SO ADORABLE.

“Here at last, on the shores of the sea, comes the end of our friendship. I will not say do not weep. Not all tears are bad.” Okay, then I won’t feel bad about it *SOB*. I’m not actually crying; apparently I’m heartless tonight. Or this morning, since it’s 4 a.m. now.

God, this is a beautiful movie. And my favorite credits out of any movie I’ve ever seen. When I was younger I would watch them over and over because I loved them so much**. “Lay down your sweet and weary head. Night is falling; you have come to journey’s end. Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before…” I have that whole thing memorized. And I should really take its advice. SLEEP, DAMN IT EMILY YOU HAVE TO BE UP IN A FEW HOURS***.”

*I’m not kidding. I actually used to have the time and mental capacity to do this every month.

**I had a sad childhood.

***I’m going to take this advice again and go to sleep, scissors-stabbing serial killers or not.