Wednesday, September 01, 2004
This entire experiment in sleep deprivation is getting amusing. It feels sort of like I'm that assbucket who locked himself in the glass box over the River Thames so that either he could reach some sort of spiritual enlightenment or so everyone could watch him die or whatever. I'm being mean so I won't put in a clickable link but y'all can find the horrible details over here if you're interested (http://river-thames.com/stunt/david_blaine/). Go on, you know you want to.
I'm not quite sure what his point was but I'm thinking this feels like the text-based equivalent of that particular brand of fuckery. Well, except that I'm not naked (although you may imagine me so if you wish) and I get to sleep in tomorrow so my ordeal is of considerably shorter duration. Oh yes, and I don't have to pee in front of 4,000 gawkers.
Not without a reasonable fee, anyhow.
One of the symptoms of this madness is that I'm even more prone than usual to the particular disorder known as 'being earwormed'. This is what happens when you get a song in your head and it just won't go away. During past episodes of this mad double-shifting bullshit, I've had Kurt Cobain inform me with increasing urgency (over a two week period, no less) that there was "Nothing at the top but a bucket and a mop, and an illustrated book about birds." Just that one line. By the time that little experience was over, I was wishing he was still alive, so I could kill him dead, revive him and then do it again.
I've had a number of interesting items being played by the DJ from Hell lately, the most notable of which has been a short but annoying portion of the Doobie Brothers "Black Water" (why no, now that you mention it, I would NOT like to hear some funky dixieland) and, of course, the ever-popular "Is he strong, listen BUD, he's got radioactive BLOOD".
Chris Isaac's been showing up a lot more than I'd like, also.
That being said, I have a day off tomorrow (working the night shift but not the day) and then two more double shifts and then I'm done.
Um, and then school starts on Tuesday (I'm taking 6 credits towards a business administration certificate) and then I work Wednesday and Thursday night at another hospiddle. But only until 11. And then I'm on the graveyard at this hospiddle on Friday.
This is all being done for a purpose. This three or four weeks of madness will finance my husband's entire term at college, PLUS pay for the family to go to the Puyallup Fair for their closing weekend. This means my daughter gets to meet her great-grandmother for the first time, so it's all worth it. If anyone's stalking me, we plan to be at the fair for most of Friday and if you buy me one of those big greasy onion-covered fairburgers I'll give you my phone number.
Seriously. I don't much like beef but I'd be your ho' for one of those.
Oh yes, and there will be no posts for three or four days unless I get my butt to an Internet Cafe, but I have a feeling I'm just going to spend the time eating, patting baby goats and maybe fondling some fleece.
No, that's not a euphemism. Perverts.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Now I have the Doobie Brothers in my head! You have NO IDEA how often I am forced to hear them being that they are considered "Southern Rock" since I moved to Georgia.
The worst is doing a 100 mile bike ride, and getting "My Sharona" stuck in your head around the 11th mile of it.Post a Comment