I am finding it difficult to sleep.


Not difficult to fall asleep, not insomnia; no. If I were to lie back and shut my eyes to imagine tomorrow when I opened them again I would certainly find myself there.


I can't shake this feeling that there was something very important I had to do today and I did not do it. I had this feeling yesterday. I had this feeling the day before that. It's sort of a "Did I leave the oven on?" kind of feeling except that the oven in question is 40 feet tall.


Tomorrow brings work. School. Valentine's Day? Not Valentine's Day for me. I have a date with a textbook and a part-time computer information systems teacher. I should bring candles. Or hey, why not go all-out and grab the wine and the bubble-bath? Nothing wrong with hoping for the best...


That will be my routine until the end of the semester in May. Well, probably not the candles and bubble-bath, but the school-and-work thing certainly. I have already marked my calendar for the day I will quit my job: May 26th, exactly one year from my date of hire. The job isn't bad, the money is good, the hours are reasonable, I hardly notice the Muzak anymore, the dental plan is adequate, the retirement options are sound, and if I had a necktie I would hang myself with it.


I think I'm feeling the way I used to feel when I first started this job. That burning desire to rage against the machine. But to what end? It is an impotent rage, a wild punch at the chin of faceless man.


Now, a kick to the groin of a faceless man would probably get more of a reaction. Heh heh, how's that for a severance package.

12FEB05
0312


The past couple of days have been a blur. Probably because of the fever I've had. One of the last coherent thoughts I had was around 2 am Thursday morning when I wondered "Why is it so cold in here? It hasn't been this cold all winter." I turned up my heater, wrapped myself up in my blankets, and fell back asleep.


I awoke still shivering to the buzz of my alarm clock. I picked myself up, took a shower, dried off, realized that I had done nothing but stand under the water, took a real shower, and then stumbled to my room to find some clothing.


After feeling an overwhelming urge to weep with joy after discovering my pants hanging in my closet, I decided that it might be a good idea to call my work and tell them I was feeling out of sorts and would not be coming into work. Then I tried to fall back asleep.


I succeeded, I think. I remember getting up only once more to drink some water and use the restroom. Sometime after that I had an argument with myself for a good ten minutes. One part of me was certain that I was turning into a zombie, another part of me was certain that it was everyone else that was turning into zombies and absolutely had to be destroyed, and a third part of me was very timidly asking the other parts to hang on a moment and not be too hasty about anything.


And so the time passed.


My fever broke during the second night. I remember feeling very cross because I had finally gotten myself warmed up and now it was getting far too hot.


I whiled away my Friday sipping chicken broth and clear soda. Some of my friends were going to go out dancing. I envied them and imagined a club for feverish people. There would be a very warm room and a very cool room and the bartender would gladly add a shot of vodka to your broth or soda.


I would get thrown out after hallucinating that I was in a space station and desperately running around looking for an escape pod of some sort.

THE APOLOGY

I'm back from New York City. I will touch more on that in a moment.


Before I left, I sent a few e-mails to my dear friends Molly, Jaclyn, and Alyx asking how to get in touch with them so I could see them because I both miss and love them.


Yes, well, while in New York I completely, utterly, and inexcusably failed to check my e-mail. On the flight home I felt worse than I've felt in a long, long time. (And I do stupid things on a daily basis.)

Thus, the indispensable Joey Moore and I decided to present my extreme remorse the only way I know how: Through pictures and word bubbles.

(I have to keep refreshing to get this image to load.)




If there is a silver lining to the pathetic cloud I have hanging over my head, it is that I am grimly determined to return to NYC as soon as possible to find some way to atone for my sins. I am a moderate cook and I can do light housekeeping, at the very least.


If there is any chance of forgiveness, I hope that I will find it in New York City.

What a party.


Beth and I entered Sibbitt's home to find him slightly inebriated and busily tending to the preparation of a variety of animal-based dishes.


Outside, Mother Nature wept softly to herself as we sat down (or, for those who were not quick enough to grab seats, stood up) to consume roast goose, baked rabbit, grilled rabbit, rabbit stew, and bacon-wrapped shrimp,


Somewhere else outside, a cow and a chicken were high-fiving each other.


I almost polished off my bottle of apple brandy which would have floored me had I not stopped halfway to gorge myself on various critters.


The party continued in that fashion, with drinking punctuated by trips to the table of dead animals.


A few vegetarian spring rolls made an appearance but they too were quickly devoured. Ah, the joys of being an omnivore.


And I must say, the moonshine Sibbitt brewed was tremendous.


We spent the night. While we slept, about three inches of snow fell. I was not pleased. It made for a harrowing drive home, but fortunately, Beth was driving. I mostly huddled in the foot well of the passenger seat and whimpered.




On a less self-sufficient note, I am leaving for New York tomorrow night. I have no idea what to expect and that's exactly how I like it.


As long as it isn't snowing up there I'm sure I'll be fine...

Sibbit is embarking on another adventure.


I for one intend to see him off right.


Friday afternoon I will leave work, possibly hijack my dear mother's minivan, grab a warm sweater and my bottle of apple brandy, and then trek up to Flagstaff for his embarking party.


I am accepting passengers. And why yes, I do allow drinking in my car as long as it is in some kind of giant convenience store cup.


What say you?

No rest for the wicked, I suppose.


I'm on my hour and a half break between school and work today. On Mondays I crawl into work at 6 am. Usually by 4:30 pm I manage to free myself from my shackles by gnawing off my legs. Now that school is back in full swing, I have class from 6 pm until 9:30. This is my first day of this schedule and I'm a little concerned about what else I may have to gnaw off before I finally attain freedom.


I'm optimistic.

What have I been up to?


I got drunk on my lunch hour and then returned to work to attend a huge meeting with over 600 of my fellow employees of my company and then got in an argument new CEO of the company.


Brian and I went to Los Angeles to visit Julie and Erin. As a side quest, we picked up a couple of growlers of the legendary Coronado Nut Brown Ale.


I learned to walk like a normal person again.


I signed up for another semester of school.


I memorized the chair dance routine the fat Romanian guy does.


Neglected my blog.


Seriously considered tearing out the new crown on my tooth after a week and a half of pain whenever I use my mouth.


Booked a flight to New York for the first weekend of February.


Had a sandwich.


Barely escaped with my life after being attacked by my niece and two cousins whose combined ages and weights equal 8 years and 56 pounds, respectively.


Hmm. Looking back at what I've written, my life sounds pretty good.