Hey kiddies! Let's sing the Insomnia Song! Ready? One, two, three...
...
Wait... there is no Insomnia Song. Shouldn't there be a song about insomnia to keep those of us who suffer from it entertained? Yes, I think there should. Instead I go on my nifty laptop, where I check myspace, HEX, and LJ. Too bad my nifty laptop makes me more and more awake. Yeah, thanks Toshi. (I name inanimate objected...)
Of course, there's a second option to getting over insomnia blues: writing! But it seems that creativity is on vacation.
Then there's a third option: reading one of the many books that I've been ignoring. The only problem is, I've been ignoring them for a reason. My imagination must have gone with my creativity to Rio. (Imagination and Creativity may fall under the same category, but they're different. Apparently not different enough to not want to go to Rio with each other. Oh, and see that? That's personification. Take that, 75-on-English-Final!)
Now that I've checked HEX, myspace, and LJ, the only thing left to do was come here. Which is why I'm here, discussing the options to insomnia. Now I have nothing to do!

How about this: I'll talk about my emotions, like the girl that I am.
On Friday, I couldn't wait to leave school and go home to do nothing. School has been causing nothing but stress. Saturday may have been the only fun-filled day I've had in weeks. Once Sunday rolled along, and I realized that I actually did have homework, all the stress came tumbling back. So here I am, feeling sick to my stomach with stress. I am a firm believer that fifteen-year-olds shouldn't be stressed out. We should be living our lives; making stupid decisions. Instead, I'm being the almost-wise-decision-maker. (This excludes Saturday, when I bought that awful CD for Harry Potter Week.)
Then Stacy London and Clinton Kelly (the two wonderful people from What Not To Wear) made me realize that I hate my wardrobe. Actually, I knew this before I watched their show today. It just kind of all came crashing down on me. Like, "Oh my gosh, what will I wear tomorrow?" Then I realized that it doesn't really matter, because God won't say, "Angela, change clothes, you look horrible."

I'm still not tired...