tell your children not to do what I have done

My sleeping patterns are all screwed to hell; I have been awake for 30 hours straight (6 of which I spent in a bus crowded with hyperactive and well-rested people) and I'm very clearly steering straight towards my breaking point. I barely know how to string together sentences any more, and I hope like you wouldn't believe that I'll get some restful sleep tonight, because I've got plans for tomorrow and I just yearn for it to be a good day. There's this Dean/Cas story I want to write, a post-series fic in which the two of them have tucked themselves away in a quiet corner of the world, simply enjoying each other's company. I feel that if I don't finish the first draft tomorrow, I never might. And it will be porny, and schmoopy, and quietly tender, because that's exactly what I want for the boys right now.