So we stayed until 11:30 last night, uploading files. Let me restate that.
11.30. That's PM. Uploading files. Big-ass files. And hey! Here I am, again (I've been here for an hour and a half already, people. You can't buy dedication like this!).
Soooo ... I'm a little punch-drunk. Just a leetle. I was fine driving home last night (although I had to turn around halfway, come back up the R55, and take my normal "come to work" route back because there was a 2-kilometre (or so) line of brake lights heading through Diepsloot and up the hill ahead of me! IT WAS MIDNIGHT! Why was there a freaking TRAFFIC JAM?
Anyway, the Coke Light (ugh) that SimsBuddy bought (accompanied by delicious, I'm-going-to-regret-this-in-two-weeks pizza) helped keep me alert for the drive home. The four hours of sleep, though? Not so much help. At least MadCat had warmed the bed for me, so I was able to snuggle into his shape and pass out without shivering my ass off.
Heheh. I said "ass". I am 7 years old. And how lame was THAT?
Sigh. Clearly I need COFFEE! And I have used the last of my delicious Mocca Java. Now I am drinking Ricoffee, which: YUCK. But add three heaped spoons, and six of sugar (did I mention I am SLEEPY and need a rush?) and it almost tastes like ... sludge (hence the SIX SPOONS of sugar!).
Ooh, just remembered! Last night, Greeneyes had been trying to help me set up the file upload system and when we'd determined that it was working, left for home - but he was so concerned about me staying late that he offered to come back and bring me a home-cooked meal! And he'd do it, too. I'm glad he has a wonderful wife (and it doesn't hurt that they're both gorgeous to look at). Man. When I have boys, I hope to bring them up as sweet, polite and all-round wonderful as Greeneyes.
Now I am reading Miss Doxie archives while uploading files (it takes FOREVER to get them attached, and then sent). More as the mood strikes.
At least I didn't come home to a steaming pile of poop last night!
"The world belongs however, to those can who look at the glass and say: "What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was bigger!" - Terry Pratchett, The Truth'
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