I am SO stupid...

I've been a decaf drinker for years.

Why, you ask, have I been drinking unleaded joe, when I've worked early mornings... forever? When I am not even close to resembling a morning person?

I just didn't want to rely on large doses of caffeine to wake me. I mean, there IS some caffeine in decaf... and a little more in chocolate, in all those mochas I have consumed over the years. And that seemed like enough. Plus, there was a time it seemed healthier to avoid the caffeine.

As you are probably aware, the alleged health benefits of decaf have largely been debunked in recent studies... so when I had a bunch of leftover fully-leaded Starbucks Christmas Blend beans hanging around the house, I thought... hey! I can brew that and take it to work with me, as part of my Austerity Program! A win-win. Right?

Umm. Except. I completely forgot about the OTHER reason I don't do much caffeine: my stomach doesn't like it. Remember last week, when I was having all sorts of stomach trouble?
Yeah. I now think the caffeine played a role in that.

DUH. Set your clock for now, stupid...

Oh, the good news today? My fever's finally broken! I was SO happy to be freezing cold in my bathroom this morning, since I've been working up a sweat in recent days, carrying out such taxing chores as styling my hair and applying my makeup. Whew.

A much-needed laugh...

Now, THIS.... is some funny shit.

And as Miss Cheese points out, be sure to click on the "related" link, to see the moron himself, grooving to this "song."

Adding insult to injury...

A cold sore has sprouted on my upper lip.
Because what I really need right now is to feel (and look) like a fucking leper.

And THEN...

...some assclown gets on the bus this afternoon with a lit cigarette... and CONTINUED TO SMOKE. Despite all the "no smoking" signs posted on Muni.

I really should have said something to him, but I'm always reluctant to confront strangers. Who knows what his deal is? With my luck, he was some gang kingpin.

And considering how foul I was feeling at the time, I was likely to say something that would have gotten me into big, big trouble.

But if I had, maybe my hair wouldn't smell like it does now.

And THEN, I decided to do a little laundry...but all the fucking machines were in use when I got to the laundromat!! What losers are doing laundry on a Friday evening, fer chrissakes? Aside from me, of course. So I went home, and waited another hour until everyone else was done.

JESUS CHRIST.

Okay. No more ranting.

For now.

Just call me...

... Debbie Downer.

So the new, cute little umbrella I picked up recently happens to look like a child's umbrella when it's opened, so it wasn't much help to me in the rain this morning.

I learned this after a hideously hot and steamy bus ride downtown. See, I'm still feverish... and when the bus drivers turn the heat on full-blast on a rainy day, it's pretty unpleasant even if you're healthy. I wanted to scream. And I figured I'd get lynched if I flung the windows open, since it was rainy and the outside temp was around 48 degrees.

By the time I'd arrived at work, I was practically drenched in sweat, and sat here sweating some more for my first hour on the job. Then I got chills. It's been like that on and off today. I'm all hot again right now, in fact. I feel like I reek.

And nearly everything I eat turns my stomach. I'm either nauseous or in pain. It's an interesting diet technique... like aversion therapy. I've just decided to skip lunch....

Sigh.

I've been tagged!

This is all her fault....

It's the Five Guilty Pleasures Meme. The rules:

Simply list or write an entry about five of your guilty pleasures. Then choose five other bloggers to tag.

1. Chocolate. Love it. Gotta have it. Every chance I get.

2. Manicures. This is going to sound really stupid, but I have nice hands. I like them, anyway... and they look SO much better when someone who can polish my nails properly, does. I tried quitting for awhile, but man, oh man. What a difference a pro makes. It's so worth the $8.

3. Fooling around online. Reading blogs, blogging, chatting with friends, shopping. I'm not an addict, but sometimes I wonder...

4. Ricky Martin. I'm sorry, but the man is beautiful. And have you seen him move? I have. Up close. I couldn't speak, and anyone who knows me knows just how unusual that is. And he was SO sweet to me when I got to meet him a few months ago.

5. Cocktails. I love me a good Cosmo, Sidecar, or Manhattan. And sometimes, I love them a little too much!

Tag! You're it, Jon, Dzer, Madame X, Miss Cheese, and Ms. Angela.

Hey!

Why would someone remove this adorable photo as the background on their computer... and replace it with a picture of a bulldozer??? Huh??

Why??

Anyone?

(I am, in case you were confused, referring to the computer I use at work. It's a shared workstation. But I am the Queen of this workstation....)

So very random...

So I did finally get my ass over to Walgreen's last night, to shore up my supply of cough medicine...and I waited until 9pm for a couple of reasons: I figured it would be easier to find parking (no, I was not up for the eight-block round trip walk), and that there would be fewer people in the store to experience my pale, disheveled, stinky, miserable presence.
I was wrong.
I parked right out in front, which is a miracle. But there were 15 people in the checkout line when I walked in! I had to stand around PEOPLE for much longer than anticipated. Damn.

In my apartment building, there are four of us who subscribe to the San Francisco Chronicle. When I'm working, I'm usually the first person up and out the door in the morning, so I bring all the newspapers up from the building lobby, and toss two of them on the landing to the next floor up, place one outside my across-the-hall neighbor's door, and take mine. Now, I didn't start this tradition; I used to just get mine and move on, but my across-the-hall neighbor Tim started bringing them all up one day (sometimes he's up as early as I am), and I thought, hey, that's nice. I can do that too.
But why is it that when I'm NOT the first person up, and Tim's working nights, that the other two subscribers can't show us the same courtesy?? I have to go hunt down my paper. Assuming someone else hasn't "borrowed" it already. Grrrr.

I got the funniest thing in the mail yesterday. I lost my sunglasses at Disneyland last week, which was kind of torturous, as I don't do well in sunny weather without something over my eyes. And it was kind of a pisser to lose the sunglasses I'd just bought two days earlier. Yeah, they were cheapies from WalMart, but still. I was thinking about the prospect of driving back to SF the following day with no eye covering. (I'd forgotten I had another pair that I don't like as much in my car.) So as I was leaving the park, I swung by lost and found, since it was on the way out, and I figured it was worth pawing through a box for a few minutes to see if I could find them. Well, they don't let you paw through anything; you have to fill out a form, describing your lost item, and they'll contact you if they find anything. I felt stupid filling out this form for some $15 sun glasses and my fraying glass case, but I felt weird about walking away while the guy who'd helped me was watching.
Lo and behold, my sunglasses turned up in the mail yesterday! I'm still cracking up about that. It really IS a Magic Kingdom!

(clearly, I'm feeling a little better today, since I'm able to whine about more than just my illness...)

Umm....

Anyone want to go to Walgreen's for me to pick up some more NyQuil Cough?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Damn.


(You know, I actually do have something more substantive on my mind that I'd like to write about, but my head feels like lead. Hey, I'm a poet...)

Sure am glad I got that flu shot...

What the hell? How is it possible that I feel like death warmed over... AGAIN? I haven't been out of the house since Saturday afternoon (and the weather's been gorgeous)... I've been sleeping, like, 11 hours a night...I'm burning through several sick days in JANUARY... and I feel WORSE today than I did yesterday.

Whine, whine, whine.

It's just not right.

DAMN it...!

I think I'm getting sick again.
I've got the telltale dry throat...I'm coughing more than usual... and I'm really run down.
No. This can't happen. I spent half of December sick!

It's a good thing I'd already planned on having some quality couch time this weekend, catching up on a bunch of Daily Shows, Colbert Reports, Lost, My Name is Earl, and The Office. But it's kind of a shame that I'm already in my PJs at 5 p.m. on a Saturday... especially since I got my hair cut today and it looks all cute and stuff. What a waste.

Go away, germs... go away!

PDPGs...

I've witnessed all sorts of public displays of personal grooming on public transit.

Some people clip their nails on the bus, which is horrifying. It's disgusting beyond belief to know that human detritus is flying through the air and could land on me at any moment. Blech.

Some women apply their makeup on the bus. I'm not talking about a touch-up...I'm talking about the whole face. I'm actually more amazed by that than disgusted, as I don't know how they can do it without poking an eye out or looking like an Impressionist painting when they're done. I can barely get mine on properly in front of my bathroom mirror.

This week? There's a guy who's been shaving on the bus. Yes. Shaving. And he's got the loudest electric razor I've ever heard. And it takes him forever to finish his shave.

Is it wrong that I'm a bit grossed out by this??

Picture this...

Four women, in their early 40s, standing in line to have their pictures taken with Winnie the Pooh, Eeyore, and Tigger.
I think it was the Gupster who pointed out that we were the only grown-ups (and clearly, I use that term loosely) in line who didn't have kids with them.
But come on! I had to pay homage to Tigger!

Cut to: a few hours later, as our day at Disneyland was winding down, when we started complaining about achy, tired feet and other signs that we are no longer as young as we think we are.

Talk about a study in contrasts.

A marriage and Mickey...

Yeah, I said the bride was young... but not THAT young!

That's Bri as a little one, back in the days when she loved to dress up like a bride, and her family could get her to do anything by telling her it was what brides did. Too cute, no? As Cindy said, they should have known she'd walk down the aisle early....

The wedding was really lovely. The bride was breathtaking, and yes, as I predicted, I welled up when I first saw her with her dad in the chapel. The groom cried. The bridesmaids cried. The bride's big burly uncles cried, as did her dad, when she started to get choked up while saying her vows. Miraculously, Cindy, who was performing the ceremony (!!), managed to hold it together...which is a good thing because she'd ordered me to say something funny to stop her tears if she DID start crying. And I really didn't want to be the asshole who heckled the officiant during the ceremony. (Instead, I was the dork who danced with the bride during the money dance at the reception, instead of the groom... because, hell, I wanted to dance with her! I'm guessing there were people watching who said to themselves, "Well, she IS from San Francisco...." Whatever.)
Cindy did a fantastic job, with just the right amount of solemnity and love. And I got all teary again when Bri gave her a kiss at the end of the ceremony. Sweet.

Cindy was also in charge of making the wedding cake. Or should I say, wedding cakes. It was supposed to be a three-tiered cake (separate tiers), with two side cakes. That's five, right?
She made ten.
Five of them didn't turn out properly, for reasons we could not understand. They looked like souffles, and ended up overdone around the edges. Those ended up in the trash.
So we spent most of Saturday making cake after cake after cake. And, did I mention the cake making?
Then we decorated them. Those of you who know me are aware that I have no crafts talents whatsoever, and yet, I was put on dot duty. You know, like polka dots. On the sides of the cakes. Yeah.
Here's hoping there were no close-up photos taken of the damned dots. Which looked a lot like spikes.

And I'm not sure how this happened, but at the reception, I ended up at a table of troublemakers. I mean, you know I'm so well-behaved and appropriate at all times. Heh.
We kept stealing the champagne off the service tables -- I don't think I'm the one who started this, but I won't name Janet names -- until we got into trouble. The wedding and reception were held at a resort that's on an Indian reservation (Barona, in case you were wondering), and there are all sorts of rules governing alcohol there. So the bottles couldn't be on the table. Oopsie.

And while Cindy made it through the ceremony without tears, she didn't make the drive home without them. Not only did Bri get married, but she's moving to Arizona with her new hubby this week. She's the only member of her family to live so far away from the rest of the clan, and since Cindy helped raise her, well, it's hard to her to take. It's a huge change for everyone.

The bride and groom seemed very happy and very much in love, and that was really wonderful to see. Watching them reminded me of what it was like to be head over heels. I hope to feel that again someday.

The following day, I was off to the Happiest Place on Earth, where the crowds were light and the waits for the rides were thankfully short. That Fast Pass thing may be the smartest thing Disney has ever done. I think I may have spent the better part of a week, over the course of my lifetime, waiting in long lines at Disneyland. This time? I don't think I waited longer than half an hour for ANY ride. And most of the waits were much shorter than that (and provided a great opportunity for us to catch up on each other's lives). Also, the newly revamped Space Mountain? AWE. SOME. (It's been my fave Disney ride since it opened in the mid-70s, when Julie and I would get off the ride, then get right back into line again. Repeatedly.)
Also loved the Tower of Terror at California Adventure. It really is terrifying. The California Screaming coaster is cool too.

Hey, when did they start selling pickle spears and turkey legs as snacks at Disneyland? Aren't those weird things to eat while strolling around an amusement park? I guess it makes sense if you're Henry VIII, but the rest of us? Not so much.

There are just not enough opportunities in adulthood to scream and laugh at the same time, and that's what Monday was all about. Good times. The whole trip was a good time.

Whee!!!

Kimmy, Dorky, Julie and Guppy celebrate Macaroni Season on Splash Mountain at the Magic Kingdom.

(This is the only semi-normal picture of us from the rides, by the way. The rest were hilarious, in a really scary kind of way. REALLY.)

More details later, but I just had to post a few notes from the road trip itself.

Most disturbing sign:
This message, on an 18-wheeler I saw on the drive down Friday:

"Please Drive Carefully

Because Heaven Can Wait.

Batesville Casket Company"

No joke. I laughed out loud. Until I started seeing it over and over again. And remembered it was Friday the 13th.

Second most disturbing sign:

On the Grapevine, southbound: "Break Check Ahead."

Uhh... does Caltrans not have spellcheck? (or is that "spell check?")

Best road music:

"Guero," Beck. What the hell took me so long to buy this CD? I loooooove it. And I rediscovered my love for "Whatever and Ever Amen," Ben Folds Five.

Most surprising commentary about my trip:

Two different people at the wedding I attended reacted with shock when they learned I drove from SF to SD alone. "REALLY?" Both were surprised that a woman would embark on such a long drive, solo. Huh? I've done it countless times over the past 20 years. What's the big deal?

And what a shock -- I've returned to find it raining at home! Oh well.

I have a date....

...with Mickey!

Yes, I'm heading to SoCal again, first, for a wedding in San Diego. My friend Cindy's niece Bri is tying the knot, which freaks me out to no end because I've watched her grow up. Granted, she's just 21, but still. It doesn't seem like it was that long ago that I was 21....

And I'm certain I'll be fighting back tears. Yes, I cry at weddings. Something about seeing a loved one beaming in her wedding gown gets me every time.

After that, it's off to Disneyland, with my pals Kimmy, Guppy, and Julie. I can't wait. It's been nearly ten years since my last trip to the Happiest Place on Earth, which is criminal. When you grow up in SoCal, you get to go to Disneyland all the time -- sometimes, several times a year -- so for me to go this long without a visit is just so WRONG on so many levels.

And I'm so thrilled to be going with such great friends. In fact, I think I've logged more hours at Disneyland in my lifetime with Julie than anyone else, so it's really cool we're doing it again. She was my best pal through middle and high school, and is one of the main reasons I survived my adolescence. Ahh, the memories I share with her, of extraordinary silliness, rock-star worship, and big laughs.

There will be more big laughs at the Magic Kingdom, with the four of us not acting our ages. That's the beauty of old friends.

See you real soon!

p.s. I almost slept normally last night! Yay! I might have made it through the entire night without waking if it hadn't been for the drunken moron who was hollering on the street around 2 this morning. Assclown.

I might as well drink!

News item:

If you've every stumbled out of bed, and felt totally disoriented, a new study has found something you probably already know -- being groggy affects the brain as much as being drunk.
That disoriented feeling we get when waking up is called Sleep Inertia.
It's been studied before, and researchers have found it can last anywhere from just a couple of minutes to a couple of hours.
But, for the first time, researchers have looked at how sleep inertia impairs a person's ability to function.
"The effects of sleep inertia may be as bad as or worse than being legally drunk," study author Kenneth Wright of the University of Colorado said in a release.

Oh. Some of us already ARE:

BUFFALO, N.Y. (AP) - More than seven percent of American workers have a drink during the workday and even more have shown up for work with a hangover.

I cheated...

No, I didn't take more of the painkiller than I'm supposed to.

I took an over-the-counter sleep aid. Which helped me sleep through the night, but has also left me with a sleeping-pill hangover.

This grogginess made it even more special when my bus broke down six blocks from home this morning.
In the rain.

And it was a power problem, which meant that NONE of the buses on my line would be running anytime soon. So I high-tailed it home and drove in to work. And paid the $14 to park in a garage near work.

But here, watch me look at the positives: I'll get home a lot faster today. The bus died close enough to home for me to fetch my car. And I didn't have to spend 30 minutes standing and clinging for dear life on what was sure to be an overcrowded bus, had I been able to get on another one.

And I have big fun in the works for the weekend; details to come.

I have a new respect for recovering drug addicts. My brain felt so foggy last night when I was driving around town running errands last evening that I was actually concerned about my safety at one point. I even forgot to have dinner.
Me. Forgetting to have a meal. That's a rare occasion, indeed.
I look forward to this fog lifting soon.

Or maybe I really AM losing my mind...!

New words...

The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are last year's {2005} winners:

1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
4. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
5. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
6. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
7. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
8. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
9. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan, in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
17. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.
18. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

Ba da da da da da da...

....feeling groovy....

Well, not so much. But I'm trying to harness the power of positive thinking.

I saw my doctor yesterday, who tells me that all the stuff I'm feeling is completely normal for someone who's tapering off of klonopin. Brain chemistry and all. And then he told me about another patient who was taking TWELVE TIMES (!!) the amount that I was, then stopped cold turkey for a couple of days... and ended up in the emergency room, and almost ended up in the psych ward.
So I am grateful that that is not my experience.

It also turns out that another drug I'd taken for years -- an anti-inflammatory -- can raise the risk of heart attack and stroke much as Vioxx did, though not quite to that degree. Oh GOODY. I'm glad I've already stopped taking it. And last night, I tossed what I still had.

The good news is that I fell asleep with no problem last night. The bad news is that I woke up about 5 1/2 hours later -- about an hour and half before the alarm was to go off -- and couldn't get back to sleep. I tossed and turned so much that I felt like Elaine in that episode of "Seinfeld"* in which she and Jerry go to visit his parents in Florida, and she is so hot and uncomfortable on the sofa bed that she does a complete 360-degree flip. Makes me laugh out loud every time I see it, but it wasn't so funny when I re-enacted that scene over and over again at 3:30 this morning. I feel achy and worn out. And I look like crap.

I shouldn't complain; my friend Melissa was mugged in broad daylight yesterday. Luckily, she wasn't hurt, though she got knocked down. But I'm certain her psyche is hurting. Mine would be.

So my goal for the day is to remember to be grateful that I'm not in the ER, the psych ward, or at the police station, reporting a mugging.


*the episode entitled "The Pen." a classic.

Apparently...

....the sleepless night is becoming a hallmark of the end of any of my periods of time off from work. And once I DO fall asleep, why does the alarm go off JUST when a dream is getting good?? Damn. That's the closest I've gotten to having... uh... "good times" in.... umm... well, let's just say it's been awhile. Too long.

At least I was doing something fun before I tried to get to sleep last night: attended the opening of "Lestat," the Broadway-bound, Elton John-Bernie Taupin-Anne Rice musical. It's definitely not the greatest show I've ever seen, but it's not the worst, either. It could certainly use some editing...

My friend and regular theatre date Patti and I then went to the after-party, and that was entertaining. We kept trying to pick the guys who play Lestat and Armand out of the crowd, because, well, they're hot... but we couldn't.
We even danced a bit. So you'd think I'd have been tired enough to nod right off after getting home.

Nope.

I'm certainly tired enough NOW.

Ahhh...

I think I once said there was no better feeling than the one you get when leaving work on a Friday.

Let me amend that.

There's no better feeling than finally walking into your apartment on a Friday after a particularly arduous and unpleasant commute home from work on a jam-packed Muni bus. Good GOD. The humanity...!
I immediately jumped into the shower, to wash away the ick of the day.

I must say, I'm really alarmed by how difficult it's been to wean myself off this drug I've been taking for so long. I figured it would be challenging, and that I'd have to be careful with the arm and neck, so as not to cause a flare up...but I really didn't think the process would kick the shit out of me for weeks. I've been dragging like you wouldn't believe; even moreso now that I'm back at work. I even declined an invitation to have cocktails this evening -- THAT's how tiiiired I am!

When I first started taking this stuff, I was in a narcotic fog for at least a week. That's how strong it felt to me then. And now, getting off of it has left me in another fog.

Hi, my name is Terry, and I'm an addict.
Alright, my doctor says that's not true. I'm drug-dependent... not addicted... but what the hell is the difference when you're trying to get off the damned drug??

Best invention EVER!

Okay, it's not really an invention, per se...but a fabulous find at Trader Joe's (natch) nonetheless.

Pre-cut, PRE-DICED onions. In a re-closable plastic bag. Ready to use. Oh. My. GOD.

See, when I chop onions, it's like every last bit of moisture in my body comes out my tear ducts and nose. It's really awful (and gross to picture, no?). By the time I'm done, I can't see, and I feel like I'm about to puke. (And yes, I've tried all those tricks to prevent this. They don't work for me. Seriously.) When I make my famous marinara sauce, I have to make sure I'm not wearing any makeup or planning to go out in public. I look like I've been beaten up, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for killer sauce.

I almost did a happy little jig in the store when I saw this. My prayers have been answered! No more marinara pain!

Oh, and another thing? Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. My mom picked some up for me while she was here, and oh. my. GOD. I don't know how that thing works, but all you do is get it wet and voila! Nothing but clean, clean, clean. And no chemical smell.

Ain't progress grand?

p.s. shhh. don't tell anyone...but the sun was out today! it didn't rain! omigod! shh! don't scare it away.

Is this TMI??

Why, oh why, do I have to pluck this freaky little hair out of the faint mole on my chin several times a week?
Sometimes, I have to do it every day. Stubborn little bugger.
How does it grow back so quickly??

As if I don't already feel like an old crone today... !



(omigod, i can't tell how happy i am that when i went to google images and typed in the words "old crone," this was the first pic that came up. it's from "holy grail, " people!!
do your worst....)
(i know. i need to get a life. i blame the delirium. yeah, that's it.)

On the other hand...

...I was delighted to come back to work to find a fabulous Festivus gift from the lovely Misses Cheese and Angela. A fabulous disco CD was part of the gift.
And there was chocolate in my mailbox too.

My fabulous co-workers certainly know how to brighten up my day. Perhaps I should thank them with a little less whining.

Perhaps.

A peek into a restless, dorky mind on a sleepless night...

Around 9 pm
There's no point in trying to go to bed now, as I'll just toss and turn. I'm not tired enough. I haven't been to bed this early since last year (hah hah. I KEEL me.)
I'll continue farting around until I am tired enough.

11 pm-ish
Shit. Not really tired, but should get my ass in bed. That alarm's going off in 5 1/2 hours. Hey, maybe I'll read for awhile. Yeah. Good idea.

11:30 pm-ish
Shit. David Sedaris was a poor choice. I'm not sleepy. I'm laughing. Now I want to stay up and read more. Damn. Okay. Put the book down. Try to get some sleep.

11:35 pm-ish
Okay, if I fall asleep soon, I'll get nearly five hours of sleep. Not great, but I've had less. I'll manage. Yeah.

11:36 pm
Did I put some Aleve in my work bag? I can't remember. I need to make sure I have some, as tomorrow will be the first time I'll be working without so much pain medication for my repetitive stress injury.
Okay, don't forget the Aleve. Don't forget the Aleve. Don't forget the Aleve. Don't forget the Aleve.

11:37 pm
Why am I having such a hard time falling asleep? Don't forget the Aleve. I even got out of bed earlier than I wanted to today, so that I might have an easier time falling asleep tonight. Don't forget the Aleve.

11:41 pm
Damn, that bus was loud. Are they always that loud at this hour? Or do I just not notice because I'm usually asleep by now on weeknights? Don't forget the Aleve. What time is it now? Shit. I need to go to sleep. I need to go to sleep.

11:45 pm
Damn, I can't get comfortable. Is it the lack of drugs? Oh. Yeah. That reminds me. I'd better take some Aleve with me to work tomorrow. I can't find a comfortable position for my neck. Or my arm. And why does my left arm keep twitching? That's not even the injured arm.

11:47 pm

Why can't I sleep? Damn, I'm sore. How long have I been taking these drugs, anyway? Let's see... I don't think my doctor prescribed them until I went on sick leave... so that was... 1998? Is that right? Man. No wonder it's been so hard to wean. I feel like an addict. Shit. I'd better take some Aleve to work tomorrow.

11:50 pm
Do I have anything interesting to blog about tomorrow? I don't think so. And I can't keep whining about the end of my vacation. That's getting old. Maybe I should write about my fantasy about moving to New York. Did I save that wire story about how expensive it is to live there? I'm not sure. Goddamn, I can't get comfortable. Maybe I should finish up those thoughts about dating. Uh... what were those thoughts? Oh yeah. My broken flirtation detector. Do I have enough material to work with? Which guys was I thinking about? Ummm....

11:55 pm

Shit! Fuck! Look what time it is. Shit. Okay. If I skip breakfast at home, I can get up later. And it's not like there'll be much to read in the paper, either. Holiday and all. Okay, I'll reset the alarm for 5 am. Okay. If I get to sleep soon, I'll be okay. Yeah. Okay.

12:02 am

Dammit, I can't get comfortable. My neck really hurts. It's going to be even worse tomorrow... well, TODAY, if I don't get to sleep soon. Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Sleep.

12:06 am

I wonder if I should have taken something to help me sleep. Shit. It's too late now. Goddamn, it's hot in here. Okay, spaz, relax. If I get to sleep soon, I'll be okay. Go to sleep. Go to sleep.

12:10 am
So if I DID move to New York, where would I live? I'd love to live in the Village, but I don't think I could afford it. There's a new Trader Joe's in that neighborhood, too, isn't there? Where did they open that? Shit, it's cold in here.

12:15 am

Shit! Look what time it is! I'm never gonna get to sleep. I'm going to be so tired tomorrow. Should I do my laundry tomorrow... I mean, today... or go grocery shopping? I doubt I'll have enough energy to do both. Laundromat will be busy, because of the holiday. But so will TJ's.

12:17 am

So maybe what I should do is do my laundry, and then hit the local produce market, to pick up some essentials, and hit TJ's later in the week. Oh, hell, I should go to Rainbow too. Did I put any Aleve into my work bag? I should check before I leave. Don't forget the Aleve.

12:22 am

Oh SHIT! It's almost 12:30. I'm not going to get enough sleep. I'm going to be really tired. And hurting. Okay. I need to sleep. Get to sleep. Sleep. Stop thinking so much. Sleep.

12:31 am

Oh, GREAT! A firetruck. Full lights and sirens. Goddamn it. I was almost feeling drowsy there. Why couldn't I sleep through THIS one, instead of the ones that were parked outside my building the night of that fire?

12:33 am
Okay, I need to start meditating or I'm never going to sleep. Why doesn't my brain have an "off" switch?

12:38 am

Goddamn, it's hot in here. Why can't I get comfortable? Shit. I'm supposed to be meditating.

Lather, rinse, repeat until about 2 am... and repeat again starting at 4:15am!

4:16 am

Shit. Look what time it is...! Did I sleep? I must have. Goddamn it, why can't I stay asleep? I have another 45 minutes to sleep. Should I just get up, though? Am I going to feel worse if I go back to sleep? Could I feel any worse than I do now?

4:40 am

Okay, just get the hell up. This is pointless. It's going to be a long day.

The good news? I DID remember the Aleve...!

Happy frigging New Year!

Post-holiday haiku..

ornaments boxed up
lights down, christmas tree outside
january's here

It's so sad, my apartment. It looks naked without all the holiday stuff around. But I refuse to be one of those people who still has a dead tree up and holiday decor around weeks after Christmas...

And what kind of moron cleans house two days before de-Christmasing?
Uh.... THIS moron. I must have forgotten about the impending attack of the falling Christmas tree needles.
All this slothfulness has apparently turned my brain to mush. Because, you know, usually I'm just so brilliant. *sarcastic cough*

The end is near...

Of my vacation, that is.
But isn't that title all dramatic and stuff??

I can't remember the last time I had two+ weeks of vacation all at once. Guess what? I really, really like it. So that's why I started feeling that creeping sense of dread on Friday, even though I don't go back to to work until Tuesday.

And I'll be taking a few days off mid-month to go to a wedding in SoCal, and with any luck, Disneyland!

I know. Poor me. Boo fucking hoo, right? I'm sure my colleagues who've been at work this whole time will really enjoy this particular vintage of my whine. (I feel your pain, though; I've certainly been there. And that's why I like to take as much time off as I can around the holidays!)

Not looking forward to de-Christmasing the apartment. Not looking forward to abandoning my little Christmas tree on the curb for recycling. And I'm really not looking forward to setting my alarm when I go to bed tomorrow night!

Waaaaah.