In which there is a morning.
Normally, alarms and I have a very professional relationship: they go off, I get up, I turn them off, they don't mess with me anymore. This morning, however, due to extreme exhaustion brought about by the combination of lousy air travel experience (none of which was actually the fault of the airline) and bedtime being delayed by SCIENCE, the alarm managed to ring for almost five whole minutes before I got up and turned it off. Bastard alarm, not letting me sleep.
In a beautiful demonstration of 'too tired to be allowed to dress herself', I wound up trying to put my jeans on backwards, twice, and successfully left all my crap at Kate and GP's, since 'the pink camo bag' is not the same as 'the orange backpack', and when I was unable to locate the latter, I abandoned the former. Because I are teh smart blonde. This is teh smart post. And won't Kate be surprised when I show up on her doorstep after work to collect my things? (Actually no, since she's online and has been informed, but hey.)
Apparently, the Transbay bus has changed its route, which caused some extreme disorientation when I fell asleep in-transit and woke to find that we were cruising down University, rather than getting onto the freeway like a good, normally-behaving Transbay bus. This did not please me. It pleased me even less when I took into account the fact that the bus, despite having a '2003 Bus of the Year' sticker in the window, had really no shocks to speak of. No shocks at all. The wheels on the bus went round and round, and I got agitated like a load of undies in a cheap dryer.
I don't remember most of the walk to work. I suppose I'm lucky I didn't just find a Starbucks somewhere and pass out for several hours. I blame all this on the combination of 'BayCon recovery' and 'weekend-long rehearsal'. Never let it be said that I do not suffer for my art. Or make everyone else suffer, for that matter.
Is it bedtime yet?
In a beautiful demonstration of 'too tired to be allowed to dress herself', I wound up trying to put my jeans on backwards, twice, and successfully left all my crap at Kate and GP's, since 'the pink camo bag' is not the same as 'the orange backpack', and when I was unable to locate the latter, I abandoned the former. Because I are teh smart blonde. This is teh smart post. And won't Kate be surprised when I show up on her doorstep after work to collect my things? (Actually no, since she's online and has been informed, but hey.)
Apparently, the Transbay bus has changed its route, which caused some extreme disorientation when I fell asleep in-transit and woke to find that we were cruising down University, rather than getting onto the freeway like a good, normally-behaving Transbay bus. This did not please me. It pleased me even less when I took into account the fact that the bus, despite having a '2003 Bus of the Year' sticker in the window, had really no shocks to speak of. No shocks at all. The wheels on the bus went round and round, and I got agitated like a load of undies in a cheap dryer.
I don't remember most of the walk to work. I suppose I'm lucky I didn't just find a Starbucks somewhere and pass out for several hours. I blame all this on the combination of 'BayCon recovery' and 'weekend-long rehearsal'. Never let it be said that I do not suffer for my art. Or make everyone else suffer, for that matter.
Is it bedtime yet?