I've been up late all this week, even for me. Usually after 2 am, and I'm still getting up at 6 am to write - I'm trying to get the next Sci-Fi story out for handsome before NaNoWriMo starts, in just 6 days.
Yeah, the blogs are going to get sparse then. I'll just lack the time...
So anyway, I'm running on slightly shortened sleep, which for me is an iffy thing since I tend to run a bit lean in that vein anyway. So this morning as I drove in to work, rather than wash my breakfast down with a regular old flavored water, I had a Hydrive. Plenty of orangy flavor with only 30 calories.
Oh, and 145mg of caffeine.
So a little while after I got to work, things just seemed to ...slow...down...
So I tried to perk things up! I was sorting my mail like a demon, and I started singing along with the radio. Loud. Then a song came on the radio that I didn't know the words to, so i just started singing the one that was running through my head. Loud. I think at that point it was the theme to Gilligan's Island, but I'm not sure. As I'm writing this I realize that my memory of this morning is a little blurry. In spots. BIG spots.
So anyway, I was singing, and dancing a little. At least I think I was dancing. Either that or my legs had fallen asleep and I was walking way funny. I sang a little Country, a little Rock, and more Gilligan's Island, sometimes with what was on the radio, but most times not. I'm pretty sure the Gilligan's Island is a not.
All of it loud.
Usually, I sing like a bird.
Wait - a crow is a bird, right? Good.
Yes, usually I sing like a bird, but at the moment I have a bit of a cold so it sounded a bit rough. But I still had volume!
The next thing I know, there's a tap on my shoulder. I looked over and there was B.M., one of my co-workers standing next to me.
"Rob," he said, right into my face, "are you alright?"
"I'm running on like 9 hours of sleep for the past three nights combined," I said. He looked concerned.
"And I had a bunch of caffeine this morning!"
He stared at me for a second, then leaned in even closer, enunciating each word carefully so I'd be sure to understand.
He turned and walked back toward his bench, but only got half-way there before he spun to face me again.
He returned to his bench.
Talk to you later.
"Juuuuust sit right there and you'll hear a tale, the tale of a fateful trip! That started from this tropic port, aboard this ti-ny ship! The Mate was a mighty sailing man..."