Kick the Cold, Forget the Week

Let me tell you about how my week ended:

- Not one, but two CTA related rush-hour service backups resulted in me getting taxi cabs involved in the evening commute both times to avoid wasting an extra hour on the rails. Transportation costs for those two nights = $20.

- A project at work let go to the last minute meant having to take work to my cozy room with a cloud on the same nights our transit authority screwed me over. I kept myself distracted enough to forget that taking work home sucks. Leisure hours spent earning somebody else's paycheck = 8.

- So the above project was going to be overdue and I was working as hard as I can. It turns out some pieces on my puzzle needed to be changed and that meant I had to get more work done during the weekend. I was able to accomplish this while listening to my college lose their basketball competition. Hours spent on work minus hours otherwise wasted watching a frustrating loss = 1.

Let me tell you about how my weekend ended:

- Everybody's world got smaller by one degree. In playing around with the future, the past came back for people I know in the present world. This city is too big to be so small. I think I've successfully made the last three sentences pretty cryptic.

- Last night's iron chef episode either featured pears or chocolate (or a dessert teamed pear and chocolate show). I couldn't figure it out.

- After helping Sleep Out with some low end duties at their show, Q gave me fourteen hours notice to get my trumpet skills ready. I hadn't touched the thing since last spring. I showed up to find out a few notes needed to be pounded out on the keyboard. Fast action studio work is fun. Public thanks to Q for that one.

- For some reason, Rip Torn's lesbian jokes in Dodgeball are extremely hilarious. I think the timing of the first joke sets it all up.

- Friday night featured running into someone for the second time in six months. Before that I, had met her only once in 1995 while she dated my friend who started our High School's Astronomy club. The both of us probably tell that same story to whomever we're with right after crossing paths.

- May or May Not sounded very prog rockish at Friday night's show. I think it's the live drum stylings and the Omni Chord. Remember those?

- I killed a cold wile maintaining six hours of sleep a night last week (seven on Saturday morning). Six to Seven may be the magic number.

Valentines Day is tomorrow. I think I'll wear a hat and a smile.

. . [~] . 0 (Grumble) Grumbles .