don't drink red squares on a school night

I need a holiday so badly, that if I don’t go on one, my family members will need to check me into Shady Pines Straight Jacketing Facility.

I know I need one, because my frustration levels are reaching beyond Everest right now. You know when:

You save the world. And nobody notices. If you saved the entire galaxy, even if it was completely unnecessary, then they might. Maybe. To a lesser extent, you work your ass/arms/legs/limbs/uvula off, and you wonder whether the extra effort is even measurable. Even though you’re killing yourself over here. Is it worth it?

Your animalistic inclination for the carnal need to be rogered is becoming almost feverish.
Nuff said.

You drink with a bunch of male mates on a Monday night. And your alcohol of choice is based on which brand will hit your blood stream the quickest.
Quality is not factor in choice at the minute. Annihilation is.

No period of sleep is long enough. Even if you far manage to surpass the 12 hour solid REM mark
And I’m sleeping with my face planted square on into my mattress. Even when I haven’t had a big night.

You have no more fight left.
Even for the smallest things. The cashier will overcharge you. And you quietly accept and retreat. Arguing about it will lead to nothing except more protracted exhaustion. And when you’re running a tight ship on energy, you can’t afford to fight for anything.

You’ve had enough of the Ass Diet. Which you’ve been doing dedicatedly for almost two months.
You eat two hotdogs in quick succession. Both ladled in a 2kgs of All Gold. And with the viennas with that squirty cheese inside them.

You have a feeling someone might’ve stolen your identity and/or married you and is living it up in South Africa, whereupon he should be in Lagos. You lost your ID book weeks ago.
And yet, it’s “next year’s problem.”

You need new tyres. Desperately. A caring mate shouts at you.
On wet days, you ski to work.

You put Body Shimmering Cream (Vanilla, The Body Shop) on your toothbrush.
It’s not a kulula.com billboard; it’s reality. It does come in a squeeze tube.

So. I’m just saying.

PS:..Ref the title...you won't fall asleep until 2:30am.

PPPS: I have announced the winners of the Top Gear Competition. It wasn't easy, but someone had to do it. Thank you everyone who participated and sent me a mail - I was overwhelmed with responses, and it was a tough choice.
What it came down to, in order to grapple with the load of creative and informative answers to my inbox, was this:

1) Who was the quickest on the draw? (Nobody won a competition by being slow)

2) Which answers were correct? Now. I don't know who the Stig is, but most of you seemed to be pretty confident in your descriptions.

I wish I could've given you all tickets, seriously. Even the guy who Blackberried me from Lagos airport on the same morning. However winners had to be picked, lines had to be drawn.
So well done all of you who won, and enjoy the show!