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CAN'T YOU SEE SHE'S POOPED!?
Because...I totally am.
Just mentally and physically exhausted. I'd nap, but my boss expects me in at the office for a 2 o'clock meeting. So I'm going to go in, go to this meeting, and then come home to flop on the couch some more.
That's where I am now, flopped on the couch.
Cripes my head is foggy, and not the fun kind of foggy. The metallic feeling kind that squeezes you at the temples and makes your jaw clench.
Also not helping my frame of mind: the fact that it looks like one of my turtle filters is in the process of shitting the bed.
Now...as a pet owner I take no small amount of pride that my house does not usually smell like the animals that live here. There's no overwhelming cat smell permeating the kitchen, and the living room does not smell of swamp.
Unless it does, kind of like it does now. I'm embarrassed about that. The filter needs to at very least be cracked, possibly replaced with a more powerful one, but that isn't happening today. I'll need some sleep and to dig myself out from under the pile of receipts from last week before I can even ponder upgrading the filter to the Medi-sphere.
Receipts from SDCC, which was awesome, by the way. And I mean that in both the colloquial meaning of the word as well as the traditional. I have plans to write a longer post about the Con itself, but suffice it to say that my only regrets stem from the fact that time is a finite resource and sleep a precious commodity. I wanted to do so much more than the clock or my body would allow.
Okay, I'm going to go stare at a wall for a while and ponder whether I'm going to bike into work for my meeting, or just take the bus.
Boon for the former: I can leave whenever I want.
Boon for the latter: I can listen to Sparks Nevada.
Because...I totally am.
Just mentally and physically exhausted. I'd nap, but my boss expects me in at the office for a 2 o'clock meeting. So I'm going to go in, go to this meeting, and then come home to flop on the couch some more.
That's where I am now, flopped on the couch.
Cripes my head is foggy, and not the fun kind of foggy. The metallic feeling kind that squeezes you at the temples and makes your jaw clench.
Also not helping my frame of mind: the fact that it looks like one of my turtle filters is in the process of shitting the bed.
Now...as a pet owner I take no small amount of pride that my house does not usually smell like the animals that live here. There's no overwhelming cat smell permeating the kitchen, and the living room does not smell of swamp.
Unless it does, kind of like it does now. I'm embarrassed about that. The filter needs to at very least be cracked, possibly replaced with a more powerful one, but that isn't happening today. I'll need some sleep and to dig myself out from under the pile of receipts from last week before I can even ponder upgrading the filter to the Medi-sphere.
Receipts from SDCC, which was awesome, by the way. And I mean that in both the colloquial meaning of the word as well as the traditional. I have plans to write a longer post about the Con itself, but suffice it to say that my only regrets stem from the fact that time is a finite resource and sleep a precious commodity. I wanted to do so much more than the clock or my body would allow.
Okay, I'm going to go stare at a wall for a while and ponder whether I'm going to bike into work for my meeting, or just take the bus.
Boon for the former: I can leave whenever I want.
Boon for the latter: I can listen to Sparks Nevada.
