10 p.m. Saturday:
Brain: I know you've been awake for 24 hours at this point, including a 12-hour fight during which you could not be persuaded to take a nap because you are a stubborn bitch from hell, but let's try and stay awake to the end of this three-page article in the New Yorker, okay?
Body: Why should I?
Brain: Because I haven't read anything in English for a week, that's why. Because no matter the circumstances, it feels lame to go to bed at 10 on a Saturday, that's why. Because LOOK AT ALL THESE BIG WORDS, IN ENGLISH, THAT I CAN READ AND UNDERSTAND. JUST LOOK AT THEM. Aren't you proud of me?
Body: I'll tell you what I'm proud of. I'm proud that I carried your lazy ass around on foot for six hours a day for the past week, in spite of the fact that you have not exercised me that much in years and insisted on encasing me in fashionable instead of comfortable shoes because you are neurotic about people thinking you're American. That's what I accomplished this week. Now shut up and pass out sitting up with all the lights on.
Brain: No! Must fight fatigue. Must . . . fight . . . fa . . .
12 a.m. Sunday:
Body: And . . . ACTIVATE!
Brain: WHERE AM I?
Body: I know, but I'm not telling.
Brain: OH MY GOD. I'm in some kind of monument, and I fell asleep in it, and now I'm embarrassed!
Body: Tee hee hee.
Brain: I'm in the catacombs and there are bones next to me! I'm in my friend's apartment and she left in the middle of the night and I can't call her because my phone doesn't work here!
Body: You are tripping your BALLS off!
Brain: I lost my passport! I lost my credit card! I lost my phone! I'll never be able to get home!
Body: Remember last week, when you insisted on feeding me at least four glasses of red wine every night and then only gave me five hours at a time to sleep them off? TASTE MY SWEET REVENGE.
3 a.m. Sunday:
Body: Three, two, one . . .
Brain: WHERE AM I? WHAT TIME IS IT?
Body: It's noon. Clearly.
Brain: Then why is it dark out?
Body: Don't worry about the facts right now.
Brain: OMG I've slept through half the day! I spent all this money to come here and I have just wasted a huge chunk of my extremely limited time! FUCK!
Body: This is the most fun I've had in years.
Brain: Wait a minute. This is my bed. I'm at home, and it's three a.m. I'll just go back to sleep.
Body: Not so fast . . .
Brain: But what about work? I have so much to do on Monday!
Body: THERE it is.
5 a.m. Sunday:
Body: I see that you are finally sleeping peacefully. Little do you know that I've still got one more trick up my sleeve. And . . . go!
Brain: WHERE AM I? WHAT TIME IS IT? Oh, right, we've been through this. I'm at home and it's the middle of the night. Guess I'll go back to sleep.
Body: Wait for it . . .
Brain: HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO HAVE TO PEE THIS BADLY?
10 p.m. Saturday: