Monday, December 24, 2007

May I go home now? How about now? Now?

Jack is out of town visiting relatives. Free from adult supervision, I stayed up way past my bedtime, dancing around the living room to Hairspray and eating taquitos, conveniently forgetting that I had to go to work this morning. So now I’m all exhausted and mumbly and need a nap. Which I won’t get, on account of as soon as I'm out of here I have to run to my apartment and pack and clean myself up to go to church with my parents tonight.

Going to church, in and of itself, doesn’t bother me. (I know, I know, I’m supposed to feel all oppressed and persecuted and what not, but I don’t, so there.) However, taking my current level of sleep deprivation into account, going to an extra-long church service -- which will include dimming the lights while the congregation softly sings all 27,000 verses of “Silent Night” -- is a total recipe for narcolepsy.

I’d consider trying to catch some shut-eye during slow points of the Eucharist, gambling that my family will assume I’m deeply immersed in prayer, but I snore. And I do that weird, occasionally-stop-breathing thing in my sleep that always scares the hell out of people.

So… bleurgh. Merry whatever tomorrow is in any particular belief system to which you loosely ascribe. I gotta get more coffee.

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