Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The Stupid, Stupid Devil

The street cleaners are out, the sky is blue, and there is a light snow falling on my backyard. I know this not because I have an overly-active imagination that gets peaked by office work, but because I am at home. Again.

And as much as I am enjoying the view of my backyard, including the groundhog soap opera that unfolds there, I have to wonder: What prompts my brain to keep me up against my will until sometime past 3am? What in the world possesses my body to rebel against logic and refuse to sleep when it should? How can a girl work with only 3 hours of sleep, if even?

My answer to some of those questions might be:

1. The Devil

2. Asthma

3. Tea at 7pm

4. A Belgian chocolate at 8pm

5. The Devil

6. Noises that are magically magnified for the exact amount of time I want them to disappear

7. Too many blankets

8. Too few blankets

9. A long weekend involving too much debauchery

10. Thoughts! Thinking about Interesting Things!

11. The stupid, stupid Devil

I'm not impressed. I had real work to do today. I had lists and useful things to complete and projects to see through. I even was going to attend The Gym after an unwelcome break thanks to knee pain and a busy recording schedule. I was going to cross things off my goddamn list.

Now all I can cross off is 'Watch fat groundhog dig up lawn. Watch fat groundhog get scared by neighbour's cat and jiggle across said lawn. Watch fat groundhog stop caring and resume digging.' And, let's be frank, it's unlikely that was on my list anyway.

This phenomenon of me having to call in sick is happening more and more often. Either my immune system is eating itself, or something is up. Granted, I've had plenty on my mind this year, but should that really be causing my body to shut down? I'm starting to wonder if I've just exhausted myself and now I'm getting the leftovers. Random queasiness. Random insomnia. Random fever, sore throat, swollen ankle. You name it, I'll get it. Right when I want to do work. Right at that moment.

Although it's certainly not the end of the world for my co-workers, I still feel like a jerk for not being there to get things done. They can obviously function without me, but believe it or not, I really enjoy working. It makes me feel useful. Sitting around like a zombie at home? Makes me feel like a zombie in a home. How odd.

And despite being fully annoyed at the situation, I can't just go to bed either. I'm awake. Exhausted, but awake. I showered and dressed and went to work this morning, because I am stubborn as a bull and a bit dense. I did a good two hours of work. And then I felt it hit me. No point in sitting at your desk when your head keeps hitting the keyboard, am I right?

So here I am. Watching the fat groundhog get harassed by a squirrel. Again.

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