Apr. 19th, 2004 12:11 pm
Long weekend, double Monday
You are my upstairs neighbour. It's 3:30 a.m. and you can't sleep. You:
(a) Count sheep.
(b) Read a book.
(c) Masturbate. (Always works for me!)
(d) Find a plastic ball and dribble it, pausing twenty minutes between spells.
(e) Watch lame t.v. until you drift off.
No prizes for guessing (d). Oh, well, I can't complain too much. It was a fantastic weekend--and a long one, since I took Friday off in order to get a jump on things. (An unanticipatedly savvy move, since the system was down much of the afternoon.) While my underlings were twiddling their thumbs, I was strolling through the park and buying too much fun food. By five p.m. Saturday, everything was scrubbed, polished, swept, straightened, mopped, washed, and arranged. By midnight, there were crumbs on my new rugs and dots of wine in my new wineglasses. All in all, we pulled out 15 reference books in the course of the evening's discussions in order to settle various questions, from the Spanish word for "caraway" to the birthplace of St. Boniface. (e., I was this close to ringing you up since I was maddeningly unable to recall the word "orujo".)
As it is wont to do here, it's gone straight from winter to summer, pausing only briefly at spring. Early in the week, it was below freezing; by Friday, it was in the 80's. The azaleas have gone from cautious buds to full flower and violets and dandelions are blooming. Among the trees, only a few hold-outs (like the honey locuts outside my window) are stuck at the swelling bud stage; most are leafing out with abandon. [Cue late killing ice storm.]
monshu's building even switched from heat to AC, which was a very welcome development, allowing us to eat baked goat cheese and watch more bad British t.v. in comfort.
(a) Count sheep.
(b) Read a book.
(c) Masturbate. (Always works for me!)
(d) Find a plastic ball and dribble it, pausing twenty minutes between spells.
(e) Watch lame t.v. until you drift off.
No prizes for guessing (d). Oh, well, I can't complain too much. It was a fantastic weekend--and a long one, since I took Friday off in order to get a jump on things. (An unanticipatedly savvy move, since the system was down much of the afternoon.) While my underlings were twiddling their thumbs, I was strolling through the park and buying too much fun food. By five p.m. Saturday, everything was scrubbed, polished, swept, straightened, mopped, washed, and arranged. By midnight, there were crumbs on my new rugs and dots of wine in my new wineglasses. All in all, we pulled out 15 reference books in the course of the evening's discussions in order to settle various questions, from the Spanish word for "caraway" to the birthplace of St. Boniface. (e., I was this close to ringing you up since I was maddeningly unable to recall the word "orujo".)
As it is wont to do here, it's gone straight from winter to summer, pausing only briefly at spring. Early in the week, it was below freezing; by Friday, it was in the 80's. The azaleas have gone from cautious buds to full flower and violets and dandelions are blooming. Among the trees, only a few hold-outs (like the honey locuts outside my window) are stuck at the swelling bud stage; most are leafing out with abandon. [Cue late killing ice storm.]
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