5 am, toying around with a translation assignment I have to hand in by 3 pm.

This is nuts. This is decadent. By 'decadent', I mean lazily frivolous, flirting with disaster in a thrill-seeking way while still being on the safe side. I can't blame it on my illness. I'm as stable as can be, thanks to my meds. Sometimes I wonder if there's a pre-existing set of personality traits (Vorpersönlichkeit? whatever) that provide the template for bipolar disorder. Add chronic depression, anxiety, a healthy sexual appetite, a good dose of hedonism, put them in the pressure cooker of good old Freudian-style repression & allow to boil. Serve lukewarm following explosion and medication.

It's just a frigging software licence agreement, all the usual "Provider may..." and "User shall not..." crap. I know the adrenaline won't start flowing until much later in the day, until time gets really tight. I've made a start, right? At least half a page now, call me a linguistic Hercules. Blah. Blergh. And probably even *blech*.