Tossing and turning, Charlie bit back a cry of frustration. He had never been so tired and uncomfortable in his life. He was so tired he couldn't fall up, he pulled himself out of bed and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

He debated for a while about getting something to eat and drink. Finally, he pulled out a soda from the fridge and took a seat in the living room. At first, he started the tedious task of grading papers, but that didn't grading twenty of the test Charlie shoved the papers back in his bag. Leaning against the couch and pulling out the flipper, he hoped vegging out in front of the tv would help his problem. Flipping through the channels, he finally turned to Groundhog Day.

Seeing that nothing else was on, Charlie layed down on the couch and watched for a few minutes. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

Still tired, and enjoying the bliss of nothingness, Charlie muttered, "Five more minutes," before rolling over and falling on the floor. Painfully!

"Wha..what happened?" Charlie exclaimed bolting up. He was in the livingroom, at the foot of the couch. The tv was on, but the volume was turned down.

"I'd say you fell asleep on the couch," said Alan, seeing that Charlie was physically okay, "Though I thought for sure a much more comfortable matress was just a couple yards away."

He smiled teasingly at Charlie. The younger man frowned and pulled himself up.

"I couldn't fall asleep last night," he said, "So I came down here to get some work done."

"Yes, I can see that," Alan said, looking at the tv. The morning news was on, the volume turned to a low murmer.

"What time is it?" Charlie asked, rubbing his left eye with the palm of his hand and pushing away a few misplaced strands of bed-head hair.

"Eight," Alan replied, heading towards the kitchen, "Oh, and Larry called."

Charlie shot him a odd look.

"Larry?" he repeated, "What did he want?"

"How should I know," Alan replied, "Something about an equation you were working on was failing in appli..."

A sudden thundering up the steps told him he was no longer being listened to. A minute or two later, Charlie came racing back down the stairs, his clothing haphazardly thrown on.

"Shoot, where did I put it," he was muttering to himself, oblivious to Alan's presence.

"What?" Alan asked, trying to be helpful.

"My bag!" Charlie barely kept himself from yelling in frustration.

"It's right there," Alan indicated to one of the chairs on the table, "Mind telling me what the big...?"

The clatter of the door stopped him. Obviously, whatever it was was very important. Alan smirked. I probably wouldn't understand it, even if he told me, He thought to himself, remarking again how difficult living with a math genius could be. Satisfied with the fact that he could ask him later though, Alan walked over to the fridge and pulled out some eggs for breakfast.