Friday was a complete and total write-off. Actually, so was most of Thursday. I skipped a presentation I was supposed to attend during work (Me? Turn down a chance to flee work?) because I wasn't feeling well. After I drove home I found that this sensation wasn't getting much better. I made a few quick phone calls, checked in on the IRC and the MUCKs, and then headed off to bed (Much to the annoyance of Charles, who has the misfortune of joining the IRC channel about ten minutes after I go offline). I woke up the next morning at around 1am, and continued to wake up every half an hour or so, making rather more trips to the Ceramic Oracle than I feel was absolutely necessary. When 8:30am finally rolled around I got out of bed, staggered into the living room, shot of an e-mail to my contacts at work to say I wasn't going to be in and then staggered back to bed... only to find I couldn't go back to sleep.
So, out comes the laptop, I hop on the IRC and chat for a few hours with the regulars on #wt. Lunchtime rolls around and I move out to the living room, dropping onto my couch and continuing to chat on the IRC with my laptop. Let me tell you, boys and girls... if you don't have a couch that's comfy to sleep on you are missing out on a whole world of contentment. I picked this habit up from my dad, who learned it because of his time in the barracks at the fire station. If you're feeling sick and you can't sleep in your bed, go out to the living room and crash on either a couch or a recliner. It doesn't matter which so long as you can honestly enjoy sprawling out on it, and can be left alone. My couch, as old and as ugly as it is, has met the criteria to be classified "uber-comfortable." When I'm feeling ill, I sleep on the couch and get a lot more rest than I probably would have otherwise. When I'm just burned out from a long day of work, I sprawl out on the couch and feel relaxed in no time. When a member of the Illinois Pack stays over night, the couch is never spoken badly of (that I've heard, at least). Hell, when roho was between apartments and living with me he spent every night for almost a month on the couch, and never had much to complain about (aside form Ra jumping off his head or using straws to play eerie music in the middle of the night). So the moral I am imparting to you is go find a recliner or a couch you can absolutely bliss in, buy it and install it in your apartment/house/condo/whatever. You won't regret it.
Jen showed up around 6pm, right when she said she would. I was laying on the couch, watching my newly-arrived DVDs... I pre-ordered the second season of The Sopranos, which arrived Thursday afternoon for me. Once she arrived we went out to The Spaghetti Warehouse, a nice little Italian-themed grill. I had a fairly nice salad, a couple of beers, and a heaping plateful of spaghetti drowned in a nice meaty sauce. Mmmm-mmm, that's good eatin'! Once we finished up there we hopped over to Jewel to search for a new shower curtain (my old one was, to be frank, ready to develop language skills). Jewel didn't have any (bah on them) so we headed over to Target -- making a stop along the way at the local Blockbuster to check out the new releases. Neither of us saw anything that particularly interested us, so we bailed from there in a relatively short period of time. The best part is I didn't give those bastards any money! Yay (Can you tell I loathe Blockbuster?).
The seemingly simple task of procuring a shower curtain when we arrived at Target was further complicated by the task that, well, they had lots of things I wanted. So in addition to a shower curtain I walked out of there with the new Simpsons DVD, a new exterior shower curtain, two new matched sets of towels/hand towels/washcloths, a new bathroom rug, some blades for my Mach 3 razor, a book for Jen and .. something else that is escaping me at the moment. Either way, I ended up spending about forty times what I had originally planned to spend. Such is life, I guess. I can't say I didn't need the things I bought, though, because my bathroom has been in short supply of vital supplies.
With all that said it's now time for me to jump in the truck with Jen and head over to the local police station. I'm going to apply for my Firearm Owner ID card (FOID for short, invasion of privacy is how I see it) so that I can "legally" own my shotgun and the handgun I'll be bringing home this Christmas. Oy.
Conform or be cast out