I awoke this morning with snakes at the ready to sprout from my head. Medusa would've looked like Lamb Chop next to me today. I have no idea why I had such an aptitude for bitchtitude, but I fuckin' did.
First thing, given the plague of sleeplessness going around the department, I stayed up entirely too late watching Proof last night and reading and generally wasting time and straining my eyes for no good reason. The alarm blast sounded at 7am and I fell out of bed, hopped in the shower, emerged still comatose and screwed around on the computer until it was time to NOT put on makeup, throw on unattractive clothes, and take the dog to the vet for his weekly blood sugar tests.
I rolled on to C'vegas only to find that the same traffic light that's been blinking for a week is STILL BLINKING. This is the stoplight that I must pass through to get to school every morning, and that most of the commuters must pass through, thus causing one big angry mob of screaming flip'offishness and it's really tempting to run over one of the construction workers. It would ruin my underside spoilers or I'd be all over it like a buzzard on a dead possum.
I just didn't wanna be at work today. I just didn't. Nothing against my peeps or even the little Normans that come into work, but I just didn't wanna be there.
Stopped by to talk to a prof which should've made me feel better, but it just deflated me. He liked the paper he gave back, he brought me some books to assist in my search for divine wisdom on the next paper. I went back to the WC, read through 5 pages of his suggestions, promptly slit my throat with a rusty nail, and I'm blogging to you all from hell.
I found myself saying to Beth (and others at various times), "If anyone crosses me today, they're going to lose a ball."
The highlight of the day:
Little barely-English-speaking man comes in. He's been there before. I very slick-n-smoothly slid off my chair while he was signing in because the man is afflicted with the death breath. This is not a simple case of a wayward onion exhale or some such, this is the result of a belly full of dead mice. I disappeared into the break room and re-emerged once Goose had taken the job of helping him with a paper. I walked back over and perched in one of my favorite chairs, back turned to Mr. Dragon Breath, looked at Jeremy who said, "Good call." I replied, "Well, there aren't any peppermints left around here." We laughed until we cried, and it just wasn't that funny. But it was. It was a cosmic laughing-at-that-which-is-unfunny connection...doesn't happen very often. It made my jaws cramp.
Now I need to be reading. I haven't said this in a long time, but I'm really tired (and it's only 11:00!).