Insomnia, You Evil Whore
I'd call insomnia a succubus, but that would require me to be sleeping, and I'm not.
It's hot here in the Sodom Gomorrah Metro Area:
| Current conditions | ||||||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
||||||||||||||||||
That's one o'clock in the morning, with a heat index of 105. This sucks. Thankfully, the bachelor batcave's climate control system is operating well to maintain optimum indoor conditions.
It's okay. I had Monday off as a holiday. A friend at work is Wiccan, and thus to her Monday was a holiday: the Summer Solstice. There would be very different solstices on other planets. Venus wouldn't have any, since it manages to stand completely upright. Uranus rolls through the solar system with its ass aimed at the sun perpetually, so it would always be solstice day in southern Uranus, whereas northern Uranusians would have a constant winter solstice. If you were to find yourself on Uranus, you'd have far worse problems than worrying about which Solstice celebration outfit to wear from day to day.
I slept a lot on Monday. It was an action-packed weekend, at least by my standards, and I celebrated the solstice by napping much of the day. I chatted with a few friends online, talked to my 'rents and Staceypunkin, and didn't have to leave my cave until after dark. Gah.
In my mailbox today was my new Florida Driver's License. Hooray. I'm now able to go back to the Texas Cattle Company for my birthday steak. I'm grateful though to my previous license. Oh, I know it was just a card. But a lot of stuff has happened since that hot August day four years ago when I got it. I've driven a few thousand safe miles--each of them 100% sober--and I used that license to check into the hospital nearly two years ago. The accompanying letter said to destroy my old license. I don't think so. I should build a shrine to the sonofabitch.
I should try and sleep again. I've gone through two of my usual sleepytime cd's, and nothing. There is no cool side to the pillow. I guess I'll get bored soon enough and crash. As for now, I'll leave you with the following spotter's guide, just in case you've been getting Audrey Hepburn and Paris Hilton confused. Good night (I hope)
.
Comments
The humour of describing Uranus as permanently having its arse pointing to the sun is not lost on me!
Sleep well Tom!
I think I still have my old license... but we don't get a letter to destroy it... they just punch a hole in it when we show up for the new photo.
I didn't even have to go in for my new license. I just paid online, and they printed a new one using my 2004 picture. I shaved off my Hagrid beard and wear glasses now, but it's still me. :-D
This, dear Riss, is why I love you. ;-)
As long as you don't get Uranus up on your back, you'll be fine. (Don't ask....but it's something similiar to what my dad use to say;)