So according to Rick my newly developed sleeping patterns are an illustration of a Karnaugh map. An array of Yes, No and I don’t care leaving me with not enough sleep.*
This is like the time Arkem convinced Shig to forge my signature on the internet by telling him it looked like math. For the record, my signature is not a sine wave.
Somewhere I also have the top of a pizza box** on which is outlined with great care the mathematical explanation for why we needed more pizza. Or possibly why the girl one of my friends was hitting on should go out with him.
I’m wondering if this urge to explain the world in math is due to a desire to prove our childhood teachers right — that math has a purpose in the real world, a need to quantify reality, or just a fondness for playing with the object of one’s affection. Like the way when I make art it always seems to end up being built out of words.
On a possibly related note, I am now counting sheep into the quadruple digits. If any of you are in contact with the relevant higher powers/aliens/know how to tap into the universe on a quantum level I would really appreciate if you could get on that now. Thanks in advance.
* There is an eight hour period that begins when I go to bed, during which I could sleep. Outside that window there is no sleeping for Kandace. The problem is that I haven’t slept eight hours in a row in at least six years. So there’s not eight hours of sleep there’s eight hours of potential sleep with a great deal less actual sleep. This makes me sad. Doesn’t it make you sad?
** A pizza box is not a particularly brilliant location for such illustrations of genius; I have the feeling cocktail napkins would be more appropriate. Although I suppose either is better than waking up with equations drawn on my stomach. Which has happened before.