All that snoring was me

Earlier today, I had a comment from what I would assume to be the Ghost of Bad Perms Past, and the comment told me that I was working too hard. I would assume that a bad perm wouldn't come back from beyond the veil just to fuck with me, so I took the message to heart, and have managed to make it through the day without a productive moment.

We worked until about 12:30 last night and got the ugliest of the ugly stuff done on the project, which means that we get a real holiday weekend!

But my bad perm was right that I worked too much yesterday. I have photographic evidence, taken at my desk last night, to show the side effects of pullin' a long shift. Wait, why does it sound dirty when I say "pullin' a long shift"? "I got caught in the stockroom with Renaldo, pullin' a long shift."




By this point, my hair had decided it would break formation and each strand would wander in a different direction. And I keep the Pop-Tarts handy just in case of emergency; if we'd gotten snowed in, I'd have felt bad bein' forced to resort to cannibalism.

Needless to say, I'm pretty out of it today. My body clock gets confused very easily, just like I do. I've slept a lot today, so maybe I'll just sit here with my tchotchkes and my Play-Doh and my Photoshop and try really hard not to hurt anybody.

Heh heh heh heh...