04.23.2002 - Before my time

I hate the snooze bar. The snooze bar is the tool of the devil. Snooze bar sleep only serves to make me even more lethargic during my day, yet I have trouble resisting it. Because of this, I have to put my alarm clock on the opposite side of the room so I actually have to get out of bed to shut it off. I figure, if I'm already up, there's no reason to go back to sleep. This method has worked, as for the past three years, my snooze bar has gone untouched, keeping me from that energy sapping five to ten minutes of sleep in the morning. Today, however, I woke up before my alarm and decided to go back to sleep until it went off. The slumber I slipped into must have been deep, because I never heard it go off. As such, I experienced something dangerously similar to snooze bar sleep, and as an added bonus, I was late for work. Great.

I wasn't too late, though, and it doesn't really matter because my boss comes in an hour after me anyway. The extra few minutes of sleep that should have given me rest to help me get through the day really only made me want to fall asleep at my desk and work on a nice puddle of drool. Of course I had actual work to do, so that wasn't in the cards.

No, rather than hunching over my desk and slipping into a nice dream involving rice pudding, thong underwear and Captain Lou Albano, I got to browbeat people into giving me receipts for their business trips so I could process their expense reports. I got to deal with people who "lost receipts" to mask the fact that they're charging an eighty dollar bar tab to the company. Fun times. Yes.

I should learn how to effectively start taking bribes.

Seeing as how my alertness factor sunk to new lows and my grumpiness factor raised so high I had offers on my voicemail to be in Disney's live action version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, I had less than zero desire to sit in front of a computer and pound keys like a trained monkey. I moved incredibly slowly, taking breaks often just to keep myself from pounding my head into the monitor until I passed out.

So Job #2 was fun today.

When I got home, I planned on watching Wet Hot American Summer with Jackson, but he was doing laundry and I was lazy. When Sue showed up, I discovered that I was wrong in thinking my roommates last year were completely horrible, as her current situation is far worse than anything I went through at that house.

I had a list of things to do when I got home, but did only the item lowest on the priority scale. I may not have any clean clothes to wear for the rest of the week, but all the e-mail in my inbox has been responded to, so everything works out.

Because I've noticed myself getting lazier and lazier with e-mail, I've decided that I'm going to keep my inbox organized and not take longer than two days to respond to any message. Bombard me with e-mail and test my resolve.

Soon enough, "Gilmore Girls" came on, and I reaffirmed my status as a fourteen year old girl. Where's my copy of Teen Beat? That Aaron Carter is one sexy bitch!

It is, after all, Aaron's party.

After the show, however, I quickly morphed into my old man disguise and went to bed at a quarter to ten. As such, I missed Elvis Costello on Letterman. It's probably just as well, though, because he looks as old as I feel, and it's just depressing. He toured endlessly, ravaged world reknowned groupies and did lots of hard drugs to look like that and I only had to get fat and not sleep to feel like I do. Once again Elvis wins.

I'll get you next time, Elvis. Next time.

-- Jeffy