Wish You Were Here

What an awesome day! I overslept and was woken up by a tiny distant voice which dragged me out of unconsciousness into a blurry staggering awareness. My head was full of bricks as I leaned over the railing to see Noah at the bottom of the stairs calling for me to wake up. Normally this is just the sort of thing to make me smile and amble genially into the shower, but I had seen the clock even with my glasses off and I knew that I was very late already. Getting to the stairs without my glasses on might give you an indication of how tired I was — I put on my glasses like some people breathe. If you see me without my glasses while I am awake, you should probably worry about me.


Anyway, somehow I managed to transform my morning routine from an hour to just twenty minutes. I then got into my sauna to drive to work. At work I was crabby, Paul was crabby, and I had to work on the designers’ Mac again, where I don’t have a login. That means that my bookmarks are not my own and I can’t run a real mail client that remembers my username and password, so I had to use the U’s awful web mail client. I can’t plug in my mp3 player to charge it, and Paul uses speakers so I have to either tune that out or buy in completely.

When I don’t have my bookmarks in the browser, I view them online, with a redirect script to hide the bookmarks page from prying eyes. This is usually plenty of protection, except, of course, when I go to read the blog of someone who is as obsessive about viewing their web stats as I am, who follows the referrer back to my redirect script and then figures out the domain name so they can read page after page of my blog but not comment and not email. That leaves me only with my robot friends who visit and try to let the world know the wonders of the sites that they represent. Hint: the sites involve cards. I am suddenly deleting 30 of those a day, which makes the comments of random strangers that much more precious.

I was crabby all day, which is the wrong way to get through life. I took a hard nap when I got home, one that was so good it hurt. My hands fell asleep and when I woke up my mouth tasted like hotdogs. Now that’s a power nap! I got a hold of Paul on AIM and we apologized to each other for being crabby jerks. He had been drinking downtown — possibly by himself. Dear Paul: are you okay?

Later, Cake Woman called me. We had a nice chat, but then what? We have a very strange friendship — she’s one of the few people who can make me laugh my ass off, but I’m like a C list friend so we never do anything, especially now that I can’t hook her up with any more free Maibock. She doesn’t read my blog, she’s never seen my photography (except of her cake and that night when I got super really hammered and walked to the Lake of the Isles). Oh well, I’m not gonna mess with anything that nets me free cake and excellent music recommendations.

As you might have guessed, I’m wide awake again, but I think that I will be able to get to sleep soon. Cross your fingers. I think that tomorrow might call for all the songs that make do the Humpty Hump, back to back, at maximum volume. That may lead to me dancing.

Jesse Dancing

Maybe not.

P.S.: Two whole people did the obsessive thing besides me, so I am at least outnumbered. HAha.

2 Responses to “Wish You Were Here ”

  1. I wasn’t downtown drinking by myself. I needed cheering up when I got home so I turned on some Futurama, made a snack, and discovered that there was still beer in my fridge from this weekend. Since the beer wasn’t drinking itself, I had to do something about it. Then Ben gave me a ride downtown and I stumbled around taking pictures. Then Doni came and picked me up. All is well… but I didn’t get much sleep last night cause my apartment is a sauna… so I may be crabby again.

  2. Your explanation is much clearer now that you are sober.

Leave a Reply


People I Know

Random Stuff

Recently Listened