I made it into my office by 6:15 this morning. Yes, that is not a typo, it was 6:15 am and I am freaking tired. My daughter's first tooth finally poked through so maybe we'll get a break and she'll let us sleep for more than 3.5 hours a night.
She and I spent time walking through the house at about 4 am or so. After about 15 minutes of holding her she fell back to sleep, but I couldn't. So I puttered around the house for a bit and then decided to come in early.
I am in desperate need of coffee, but I have to be very careful when and how much I drink or the caffeine G-ds pour their anger down upon me with a vengeance not seen since Noah and the flood. Since I am giving away all the family secrets let's just say that during times like this I am damn happy to have my own office.
In all sincerity, it is much more pleasant to be this tired by myself than to have to listen to the guy next to me prattle on.
So here I sit, fatigued and famished, deprived and depraved. Kind of a dramatic line, but I like it.
Made a call to one of my customers and spent a good 15 minutes making sure that she was happy and satisfied with her service. As we ended the call I said, "I love you, talk to you later, to which she responded, "I love you too."
I wonder if her face looked like mine as the line was disconnected. Was it screwed up in a pained expression that look that Charlie Brown get's when Lucy moves the football.
Thought about calling her back to apologize and then figured that I already feel like I chewing the leather of my size 12 Rockports, no need to see if I can stuff anything else in there.
Didn't feel as stupid as the guy who used to work with me. He had a client named B.J. The first time that he spoke with her he asked her if her name got her a lot of dates. He thought that it was really funny.
She did too, except the part that she found to be funny was calling our boss to complain about him.
There is a reason why we have two ears and one mouth.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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