Way too fucking early in the morning

Please note time, being five minutes past four; herbal sleeping pills assisting the falling to sleep at 11 and despite churning stomach feeling and a Biggest Loser contestant perched, incongruously, on my chest; however now I am wide awake and exhausted and angry and thinking too much and feeling kind of sick from being awake for too long and so full of anxious energy. Nancy Mitford proving distracting, but not lulling me to sleep and my thirst operating as a double edged sword in that in order to sate it I have to initiate Middle of the Night Pee Desperation (once I'm peeing in the middle of the night then sleep is becomes a nigh on impossibility). I'm out of chocolate, and if I want to sleep again then cheese toasted sandwiches are probably the worst idea of the lot. Ooh, actually, I remember some chocolate in the fridge and I still have an entire tin of biscuits, some afghans that Mon made, and half a banana cake (that might be past it's prime now).

[The only reason I can countenance this comfort over-eating is the recent development of infrequent eating habits which I figure kind of means that I can avoid becoming a Biggest Loser contestant myself. That and New Zealand doesn't have its own Biggest Loser competition. However, I may die of scurvy, like an first year Otago University student.]