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muckefuckWhile most queerfolk were celebrating Pride yesterday, I was celebrating Sloth. I had a couple instances of FOMO from pics friends posted of themselves enjoying Pride North, but they were more than outdone by the JOMO on the major thunderstorm that swept through and put an early end to the parade.
My first hint that this was happening was the curious behaviour of the cat, who--like me--was in full siesta mode at 2:15 in the afternoon. The thunder came a moment later, by which point Boobers was already under the bed. I'm sorry I missed watching the front come through; it looked very dramatic in the photos. But listening to the rain fall while shielded from its effects felt even more indulgent than an afternoon nap.
I still had a chance to overcome my inertia and make our little gay street fair but between six hours at the picnic and another four at Bearracuda, I felt I'd been quite social enough the day before. I also didn't expect the BOMB party to be as uncoordinated as it was which led to me being underhydrated for most of it. I tried to catch up before going out but I still ended up hung over enough that the thought of going out and drinking more wasn't enticing.
Nevertheless I might have yet made the effort if not for my boozerific week ahead. I have a fireworks-watching party on Wednesday, another one on Thursday, drinks at the Anvil on Friday, and of course my own cocktail event on Saturday. I don't expect to make all of these but even half would be a lot compared to what I'm used to.
My first hint that this was happening was the curious behaviour of the cat, who--like me--was in full siesta mode at 2:15 in the afternoon. The thunder came a moment later, by which point Boobers was already under the bed. I'm sorry I missed watching the front come through; it looked very dramatic in the photos. But listening to the rain fall while shielded from its effects felt even more indulgent than an afternoon nap.
I still had a chance to overcome my inertia and make our little gay street fair but between six hours at the picnic and another four at Bearracuda, I felt I'd been quite social enough the day before. I also didn't expect the BOMB party to be as uncoordinated as it was which led to me being underhydrated for most of it. I tried to catch up before going out but I still ended up hung over enough that the thought of going out and drinking more wasn't enticing.
Nevertheless I might have yet made the effort if not for my boozerific week ahead. I have a fireworks-watching party on Wednesday, another one on Thursday, drinks at the Anvil on Friday, and of course my own cocktail event on Saturday. I don't expect to make all of these but even half would be a lot compared to what I'm used to.