I'm tired. Can you tell? I think the last time I got a solid eight hours of sleep was Monday night... possibly Sunday. This was a stupidly busy week. I was so exhausted on Friday morning that, as I was waiting for the seabus to dock, I thought I could feel the platform roiling and swaying. I've experienced this level of fatigue before - it comes after the stage where you're so tired that you keep: clipping door jambs; asking people the same question several times; and you continue to forget what day it is and to eat. Thankfully Friday was a short day at work. Ran up to Chapters to grab the book club book, got home and had the opportunity to nap but didn't. Why? WHY? Napping: it's not just for the aged anymore. Then Michael came over because I volunteered to drive him to the airport to catch his 8am flight this morning. He brought me lots of presents which I had specifically asked him not to do. Plus, he forgot that he had also donated $50 to SomaFM and so a shirt bearing the same name was making its way to me. Then we grabbed some tapas items from Extra Foods (I actually read the sign yesterday so it's not a Buy Low or a Superstore which I tell everyone it is - one of my coworkers' wives {that sounds wrong, it sounds like he has many wives, but I'm pretty sure he just has the one} calls it 'Yellow Store', which I think is funny) and picked up the Simpsons movie. Hmmm... good, but not great. Spiderpig was funny.
This morning we get up at 5:45 and I am greeted with "are you going to have a shower?" followed by "didn't you wear that yesterday?". What, are we going to the Ritz Carlton or something? No, I will not shower and yes, I did wear this yesterday and I look just as awesome today as I did the day before (again, refer to the picture).
Okay. I'm falling asleep here so I'll wrap this up. It was raining on the North Shore but snowing in Vancouver. And really snowing when we hit the 41st Avenue and Granville area. And getting quite snowy at the airport. I don't have snow tires and I hate driving in the snow. It was good that I was suffering from exhaustion, because it tempered my anxiety and prevented me from repeatedly screaming, "The fuck is this white shit! Oh my god, we're going to die! I can't do this! Don't make me do this! How am I getting home?". And, you know, that would've been before we even exited the parkade. Dropped Michael off and headed for home and in the twenty minutes that had passed since I was in the South Granville area it had gotten markedly worse. Snow was sticking, I couldn't see the lines, people were going slow, waves of slush were being splayed across my windshield from morons driving in the curb lane. At one point I was driving half in my lane and half into on-coming traffic. That's bad. I just prayed to make it down to Kits and it was mostly rain there and I saw all these people coming over the Burrard Bridge with nice wet cars and I was like, "Yeah. Check out the accumulation of snow on this car: you're entering hell my friends. You don't know what's coming your way". I really don't like snow. And then, out of the whiteness, with connections successfully made, listening to a nice jazz station I started to mellow out. So mellow that I almost drove into the SUV in front of me. His brake lights were pretty.
Now. I am going to bed. I am not getting up for many hours. And when I do? It might just be to pee so I can go back and sleep more.
Night. Or morning. Something.
Beware the horrors of the snow.
This morning we get up at 5:45 and I am greeted with "are you going to have a shower?" followed by "didn't you wear that yesterday?". What, are we going to the Ritz Carlton or something? No, I will not shower and yes, I did wear this yesterday and I look just as awesome today as I did the day before (again, refer to the picture).
Okay. I'm falling asleep here so I'll wrap this up. It was raining on the North Shore but snowing in Vancouver. And really snowing when we hit the 41st Avenue and Granville area. And getting quite snowy at the airport. I don't have snow tires and I hate driving in the snow. It was good that I was suffering from exhaustion, because it tempered my anxiety and prevented me from repeatedly screaming, "The fuck is this white shit! Oh my god, we're going to die! I can't do this! Don't make me do this! How am I getting home?". And, you know, that would've been before we even exited the parkade. Dropped Michael off and headed for home and in the twenty minutes that had passed since I was in the South Granville area it had gotten markedly worse. Snow was sticking, I couldn't see the lines, people were going slow, waves of slush were being splayed across my windshield from morons driving in the curb lane. At one point I was driving half in my lane and half into on-coming traffic. That's bad. I just prayed to make it down to Kits and it was mostly rain there and I saw all these people coming over the Burrard Bridge with nice wet cars and I was like, "Yeah. Check out the accumulation of snow on this car: you're entering hell my friends. You don't know what's coming your way". I really don't like snow. And then, out of the whiteness, with connections successfully made, listening to a nice jazz station I started to mellow out. So mellow that I almost drove into the SUV in front of me. His brake lights were pretty.
Now. I am going to bed. I am not getting up for many hours. And when I do? It might just be to pee so I can go back and sleep more.
Night. Or morning. Something.
Beware the horrors of the snow.
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