Whew. I made it to my new weekend (TWT). Didn’t know, for a minute, if I was going to make it or if I was going to just stay at work, forever. And ever. And ever. Like a record when it skips, like Bill Murray in Groudhog Day, I would stay in my headset, trapped at a computer terminal until I was old and grey.
Yesterday I managed to perfect my (new) morning routine. Up at six a.m. (OMG, usually just going to bed at that time), sat in the living room to check email and write a blog entry, made a little breakfast, DID MY WRITING (gold star, wheee!), took a walk, did a little yoga, took a shower and made it to work by nine. Felt like a million bucks. Then someone called in sick which meant I had to stay for twelve hours. And feeling so great and efficient, I volunteered to stay for fourteen. Dumb ass. Dumb ASS. Oh, yes, by eleven that night, I could no longer type. I MEAN it. I was writing words as they sounded in my head – I typed TIME instead of TYPE just because they kinda sounded the same and had the same number of letters. I couldn’t get a verb in the same sentence as a noun. Total disconnect occurred. It’s not that bad to work a fourteen, but not when you’ve been so very effing productive for the three hours prior to the shift.
Gawd.
Then, of course, I got home and Digit was making VERY good use of the while-the-cat’s-away thing and partying it up with the boys down the street. Never did get him inside – he rolled in about seven this morning, dirty and smelling like whiskey, yelling for his food.
And of course, I couldn’t sleep. I started another Booga J bag while watching the taped season finale of Sex in the City (I can’t help it – did anyone else besides Carrie and me (and I didn’t buy Carrie’s reaction) find Mikhail Baryshnikov hot? I could NOT believe I thought he was sexy. But I did. I didn’t expect that). Then I got in bed and read, expecting to fall asleep. Nope. An hour later, I gave up and sat up with a Koigu sock and a New Yorker and read for another hour. (Why didn’t you all tell me how great Koigu was? Oh, yeah. You did…..)
So it’s now almost one in the afternoon, I’m just getting up, and I feel like I’m back on my old schedule. Blast. And I’m also feeling lazier than hell. I had grand visions of laundry and cleaning out closets today. Ehh. Whatever.
Bored with myself. Means you must be, too. Off to be actively lazy. Yoipes.
You did ALL THAT by nine? Good golly, you’re a goddess. At nine a.m. I’m still wearing my jammies with orange juice dribbled down the front and walking around with a head of hair that looks like a tumbleweed.
You deserve to be lazy for a while. Go right ahead and bask in it 🙂
(I sooooooo sympathize about not functioning after 14 hour workdays. Ugh! I used to do that all the time and by the end of the day I’d be slurring like a barfly.)
P.S. I had a crush on Mikhail after I saw White Nights, which has got to be one of the Crappiest Movies on the Face of this Planet. Now, I wonder what I had ever seen in him.
I’ll tell you what you saw…a man that can FLY. Seriously, he is hot,hot,hot. In person you could get blisters just from being in the same room. Honestly, I’ll never recover fully…..yipes.
Where was I? Oh yeah…hope the Big Brown Truck came to see you today to start your New Weekend off right….
Oh, yeah, he’s hot all right, that Misha! I’ve been trying to catch a rerun ever since that ep aired, even though I saw it the first time. I think I think he’s sexier now at 50+ than he was back when we watched him in tights. That sure makes ME sound old . . .
Totally sexy. I had posters of him all over my walls when I was growing up. Misha mixed with Nick Cave and Bauhaus. Oh…and that Bela Lugosi poster. He held his own just fine. 🙂
I’ll third the HOTness of Misha. 🙂 I thought he was a cutie in White Nights but now he is definitely a major hottie. 😀