I think my "friends" (and yes, I'm using air quotes) over at my last job coughed on me as a going away present. I've been feeling horribly run down. At first I thought I was dragging because I hate using degreaser, and it's been degreaser time for the last month.
Degrease, degreaser, degreaser....? *sigh*
..I remember when I used to go around saying things like, "man, don't get that stuff (ok, I'm paraphrasing again, something about blogging gets my internal editor in a twist)--man, don't get that shit on your skin, it'll eat holes right through you." and, "what the hell are you doing spraying that shit (yay!! I got past that one) on a hot surface. It'll eat your lungs out."
(IT'LL PUT YOUR EYE OUT!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAAAAA....)
...sorry, it's a learned instinct, like cackling when someone says "FLYING MONKEYS!!!!"
But I couldn't shut down to save my life. Hours on things that used to take minutes. Then I realized...er, hey? You're sick, idiot. Get a grip, take some DayQuil and get a freaking NAP.
But I have edits coming back (again. I thought I was done with edits. *sigh* Although this is the last round), and set-up for all the stores in the district. My second job is opening up branches in time for Christmas like blocks on a string, which is good since I need the money--but not good since I was sucking down cough drops and DayQuil like popcorn and soda at a bad afternoon matinee.
...and...
maybe I do need to get some sleep in.
I run around like a chicken with my head cut off, tanked on caffeine and theobromine, talking a mile a minute and burning my candle on both ends and through the middle.
A nap would be good.
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