"My bed was shaking. I can't get to sleep."

For the love of all that is holy, please make the spinning stop!
It's like this. It's 6:00 am, and I've been awake for about an hour now. Don't believe what the time stamp says, it'll probably have taken me a very long time to write what's about to spew forth from my brain and build semi-coherent sentences with it.
Yes, I was out last night - on a school night, I know... naughty - and I think I'm still drunk. The problem though is I was in bed at around two, couldn't sleep for, like, ever, and now this.
No, I'm lying - which does fit in well with the whole 'Exorcist' theme, but whatever - the real problem is that when I woke up, over a whole HOUR ago, it felt like all my chakras were open and I had access to oodles of information I didn't even know existed, certainly didn't care about until that point anyway, and it was all there, accessible and ready, and it wouldn't stop tumbling the big empty expanse that is my skull at the best of times.
Wouldn't stop, that is, until I got up. Bastard information.
I'm holding on to this little revelation though: I want to marry Lemsip and have its yellow powdery children. The cold that has been making the cyberworld's headlines (please see this (through BoingBoing - in George Clooney's eternal words, "what else?") for other, often more interesting excuses) has come and - all together now, let's cross our virtual but industrious little fingers - gone in less than two days, all thanks to Lemsip. I love you, Lemsip.
See, if I was a TV show host, I'd be in supply for the rest of my life now. Damn the unfairness of it all.
Unless it was the wine last night, in which case, fine, wine, I want to marry you and have your yellowred velvety liquid children. Now, if I was a TV show host, would I receive cases of wine from grateful winegrowers? See, this is probably information that was readily available to me before I got up.

It's going to be one very, very long day.