This is the first year in a while that I have not had as much as a whiff of booze on St. Patrick’s Day (with the exception of sniffing Ciaran, and Ciaran’s Guinness hat). Instead, I spent the *entire* gorram day at work. Regular work from 6:30-3:30pm, then Snail from 4pm-11pm (I stayed 2 hours late, reading Scott Morse’s ‘Soulwind’ and keeping Justin company, as it was his birthday and he had *tons* of computer stuff to do).
So I really could not have gone to the bar if I’d tried, with the possible exception of that half-hour between job #1 and job #2, and that would have been no good at all. I leave that sort of shenanigans to Wilson.
Yet the legacy of physical cruelty continues. Despite not touching a drop of the demon liquor, I am having one hell of a time keeping my eyes open this morning. I was up until about 2am yesterday, and around 1am the night before, and exhaustion has caught up with me at last.
I’ve resorted to the State of Emergency XL Timmy’s coffee. Am drinking it ceremonially, as befits a sacred and life-giving beverage; putting a tiny piece of the sour cream glazed in my mouth, and then filling the tiny, fried-dough sponge with luscious double-double. This has helped to abate my desire to use the keyboard as a pillow, but I’m now suffering from vivid waking dreams. The delerium is bad: I keep having lucid ‘Club Dread’ flashbacks, interspersed with memories of driving to Wendy’s with Justin and Dan. Like, Coconut Joe is riding in the car with us. Wanting to get himself a spicy chicken combo. He and Dan are both singing along to the radio. This is weird.
You KNOW I’m going to sleep under my desk for my lunchhour.
Resolutions for this weekend:
1) See lots of
2) Sleep more than 4 hours a night.
3) Buy bottled water for my bedroom.
4) Rid myself of one bag of the demon laundry.
You could have decided to drop into McKenzie’s on your way home for 1 pint of Guiness on St. Pat’s holy-day and ended up closing the place down. Purely as an example…I’m just saying.
My week continues with the no sleep as well. Working late Mon and Tues and just plain no sleep last night. I feel your pain…if only I liked coffee. I did resort to McD’s “medicinal product” this morning and a double shot of apple juice. Still not really doin’ it for me. Let’s vote Friday off the work week…I could go home now and sleep until Saturday.
Didn’t I (and I have apparently cast myself in some sort of role of authority) tell you to GO HOME AFTER WORK and GET SOME SLEEP? I mean, ok. JVL’s birthday IS an important occasion, I more than recognize that (bonzai!), but you sleeping is also necessary for survival. *tsk*
However, that will not stop us from monopolizing your time and energy tonight 😉 The plan is for ms. Cat to meet up with Melly and for them to head up to the Firkin ‘after work’ (meaning just after 5pm, with an ETA at the Firkin of about 5:20). I’m going to try to get there for about quarter past. So you can coordinate with them to travel north together, or grab your JVL (iffin he is indeed coming) and make your way whenever.
Um. That was going to be an email. But now it’s not. Go figure.
In other other news, why does your bedroom need bottled water? Or for that matter, why does your bedroom drink at all?
I hear that – on the one hand, this is the first March 18th in *six years* on which I haven’t been `lying with my head in a toilet’, to borrow a phrase. On the other hand, however, I still have something of a sympathetic hangover from working all day, presenting a poster on flesh-eating disease at my class that went till 9:30, then stopping in to see the kids at MacKenzie’s and getting home at midnight, only to wake up later & minister to the sick & puking. I highly vote for sleep this evening – I think I’m going to cut off all caffeine intake at noon so as to inspire an 8:00-ish bedtime.
C
I’m here! I’m eating girl guide cookies and ironing while watching Maury (Shocking secrets revealed!).
I did mention to JVL that I was disobeying a direct order from you, but he seemed oddly unconcerned. I’m sure you will take this “who is the Boss of Moira?” conflict up with him later today on ye olde MSN: brace yourself in case he busts out the very convincing argument that he is, in fact, the Boss of Me. My attempts to discipline him on the letting me sleep front have been extremely ineffectual. Perhaps you will find better fortune.
Regarding your other question: water helps your room grow healthy and strong. Especially important if you have wood floors like I do, because wood remembers that it used to be a tree. Wood gets thirsty, particularly in the spring, when it’s all nostalgic for sprouting new leaves and branches and whatnot.
Also, *I* get thirsty right before I go to bed. And the kitchen is just too far away when you’re already under the covers.
Looking forward to seeing you and Cat and Melly tonight. If I’m not at the Firkin by 5:30pm, call my cell phone, because it means I have fallen into a deep, deep well of unconsciousness – a well so deep that not even Lassie with little Jimmy in tow can find me.
Oh, he thinks HE’S the boss of you? It’s SO ON!
Or maybe not. I don’t like to think of the Boss of You so much as a wise and trusted advisor. Which means taking my advise is completely optional – but also the only smart and sensible thing to do 😉
Ha! Take THAT, JVL!!!
In related news, I will have my cellphone at the ready this evening. Will we be seeing JVL as well?
Although I can think of approximately eighty gajillion things I would rather be doing with my precious free time than ironing and watching Maury, I would still infinitely prefer to be where you are right now than where I am. Where you are has a television, and fridge (likely stocked with Strongbow), and a bed, and a cat, and YOU.
And no Bosses (except maybe Chrissy, later), or evil paperwork.
*impatiently watching the minutes tick by until we are eating curry/poutine and playing pool*
I’m already picturing poutine flying and lots of finger pointing and sassy rhetoric. It’s like I’m at your house, watching Maury with Cat, but in my mind!
My cellphone is also charged and on my person. Not sure if JVL will be currying it up with us; depends how late he has to work today. He’s going to call me when he’s done for the day and we will go from there. He might come out today in lieu of tomorrow, actually, as Sarrah is sick and he may have to work her Friday shift instead of partying with us. 🙁
No Friday! That’s unpossible!
One thought – if he does end up having to work, Friday will likely be a fairly late night (at least, for those of us who aren’t HORRIFICALLY SLEEP DEPRIVED *cough*), so if he wants to stop by apres travail, that’s certainly an option. ’cause the Firkin, um. As far as I know?
Doesn’tDoPoutine
*hides in corner*
Here’s to not coming in to work tomorrow in favor of sleep. Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!
I will continue to dream the impossible dream right along with you. In the interim, I steal a piece of the dream by descending beneath my desk, for a 30 minute nap. Could anything *be* more unprofessional?
Damn you for making me want hash browns! Damn!
No JVL tonight or tomorrow night?
That is unacceptable.
It’s me, isn’t it? He’s heard that I’m not “up to snuff” and doesn’t want to have ANYTHING TO DO WITH ME!
*sob*
Yes, that’s it! *Sympathy* hangovers!
Except who am I in sympathy with? Not you. Not JVL. Amy never gets hangovers. Chrissy had a moderate evening with Cat. Is it just general sympathy for the misery of the Canadian populace? The world?
Re: your homework for night school. Flesh-eating disease = Ewwww. Although it is strange to me, I respect and honour your dedication to wanting to improve the lives of others via health care.
Having just arisen from my sub-bureau, noon-hour mini-break more tired than before, I plan to look into the post-work, two-hour pre-Cat-nap (ha ha! look, a sleep deprived pun!). I applaud your idea of the 8pm bedtime; although I won’t be with you in the flesh, I’ll be right there in spirit.
And that would be a big old 0 in terms of Cat/JVL meetage.
You tell him this: you tell him if he can’t make tonight or tomorrow night, he’s going to have to join us for the girliest movie EVER on Saturday. *nods gravely*
I love reading your posts….
Club Dread’s first 20 minutes were hysterical..*whispers* “Where’s my penissss?”
Oh yeah? Well I had a pre-Cat cat-nap WITH my cat, just prior to Cat’s arrival yesterday.
…
…
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If you’ll excuse me, I just reread that last sentence and I now need to go be ill. 😉
I almost called Cleio ‘my lap-cat’, but that was just one step too far, even for me
I can completely understand why even a threatened lack of Justin can make everybody panic. Allow me to assure you all that JVL will undoubtedly make it out for at least one evening during Cat’s visit.
Precedent shows that we can’t go more than three days not seeing one another without suffering uncomfortable withdrawal pains in the form of insomnia, grumpiness and general dissatisfaction.
So no fretting – he’ll show up for the Moira, but he’ll keep coming back for more Melly/Chrissy/Cat fun. You guys are irresistable!
You could be in sympathy with Seth, if you like – judging by the shape he was in when he got home last night, he’ll highly need the sympathy. His workday starts in about half an hour – hopefully he’s alive by now.