Looks like I will be enjoying yet another fun-filled ride home in the rain and street-muck. I only just got the grit worked out of my brake-cable tubes to where the front brake wasn’t dragging all the time, only to start back over again. Oh well, the more it rains, the less I have to water my garden, and the less I have to water my garden, the lower my water bill is going to be. Considering the size of my garden, this is definitely a bonus.
I’m leaving work an hour early today because I can. I am so insanely, sickeningly tired today. This is my early-shift week, where I have to be in to work at 6:00a.m., meaning I have to be up at about 4:30 a.m., and true to form, by Thursday, I am so tired that I am on the verge of hallucination. I start to kind of fall asleep while being technically awake, and therefore my brain starts actively dreaming, while still receiving and processing all of the usual sensory information. I have a real fear of going into autopilot and speaking complete bollocks to one of the customers. My co-workers are used to it, but I feel the citizenry of Kansas City, as a whole, are probably not prepared to speak to a Codes receptionist who starts nattering about how the bass-line of a Daft Punk song sounds like orange with purple shading and that a new yak should be arriving shortly.
That and the jaw-cracking yawns and inability to follow a train of thought or perform any sort of complicated multi-step task or multi-task task. By the bye, I really hate the term multi-task. Can’t we just say, “doing too many things at once and desperately hoping we aren’t bungling most, if not all of them� Oh, and I notice, due to the green-squiggly graphic grizzling of the Microsoft Word grammar checking, that I have lost the ability to complete sentences. The opening sentence of this paragraph is a fragment. You know what? I can’t be arsed to fix it either. Also, MSWord doesn’t like British colloquialisms like “grizzling†and “arsed,†either, even though “to grizzle†is actually a perfectly valid verb clause—it means to complain fretfully, to whine. I’ll give MS the benefit of the doubt as far as “arsed†is concerned, though frankly, I feel that MS needs to catch up to the language as it is spoken. If they can’t be arsed to evolve along with the language, then it’s tough nuts for them. Some time, when I am more lucid, I need to share with you Steve and James’s thory of “arsed points.†Remind me, will you?
I keep losing my train of thought and making small mistakes, and while I think I have caught most of my mistakes, I hate looking incompetent, especially when my job is, in essence, not terribly difficult at all. Sure, if I make a mistake, the worst that will happen is that I will piss off a citizen, contractor, or co-worker, but I am all in favor of preventing pissed-off-ed-ness. I have to deal with enough cranky people who come in that way naturally; I don’t need to be exacerbating the cranky population index via my braindead bungling.
So, 3:00p.m., come on, come on. I am SO insanely, madly, sickeningly tired. All I can think about is getting home, having a nice shower, to get the road-grit off, and curling up in bed with my husband, who is probably snoring away comfortably, curled up like a croissant with a cat behind his knees and one up by his head. I so wish I was curled up around him, negotiating bed and snuggle space with one, if not both of the cats. On that bed, under my Animaniacs quilt, snoozing away with my husband, sounds like the best place