Apparently I've gotten *way* too used to waking up to let Sierra out.

Tired, and awake, and sicker of job applications than I could possibly have conceived. Also vaguely hungry, and thinking Whitman's "I Sing the Body Electric" is one of those poems that I suspect is vastly more referenced than read, and that is saddening.

Also cold.

Going to go have tea--something without caffeine--and hopefully then I can get back to sleep.