fahr'n, fahr'n, fahr'n...

Had to drive out to a week-long conference-y convention-y thing today that I had up til now been successfully ignoring.  It wasn't too bad, but in between parking out in East Egypt and going to everyone's booth and talk, I probably walked farking twenty miles today.  And I am still sick as crap, having uncontrolled coughing spasms, and breaking out into spontaneous sweats and stuff. 

Glammy. 

I have to go tomorrow also.  And that's *after* putting in face time at Eviljob, running over to Job 2 for a quickie meeting, and driving ALL THE WAY the crap back over to the convention.  Before one p.m..

Yeah, I am really interested to see how that is going to work out, also.

Not to mention the fact that I *still* have a paper due that I need to work on.  And I need to fit eating in there at some point, 'cos taking this new antibiotic twice on an empty stomach today really was miserable.  :-P  It burns, gives me acid reflux, and I have to taste it for a few hours before I got to a part of the exhibit hall that had candy, then there was a small reception with snacks.  Gah.  Without that, I might not have made it back out to my car...parked in East Egypt.

And I am a sextuple moron for having worn heels today; the top of my left foot is *killing* me, but I guess I deserve it...having to hike all the way out to East Egypt (after having walked from there, and all over the Convention Centre at least five times) in heels and wearing a few pieces of good jewellery and a farking business suit (making me look like Ms Prime Mugging Target, I am sure), I had at least two guys behind me who I think came out of a medical convention next to ours (but I try to never assume), and were walking relatively quietly behind all the way out to East Egypt (which made me nervous), so I kept my walking at a fast, 'power walking' pace...which sure, made me look all confident, but really tore the fuck out of the top of my left foot, for some reason.  Like that little indentation on top right before your toes start--the part that is opposite the porky padding on the bottom?  Yeah--that feels like it is burning.  Owwy.

Ok...I have to get to sleep.  I would take a couple extra swigs of my codeine cough syrup, but that didn't help me sleep last night--I stayed awake the whole night, just thinking about random things in a freely-associating kind of way, kind of like a waking dream that didn't make a whole lot of sense.  Sigh.  Why is it that when I take it during the day, it makes me want to curl up in a ball and go to sleep?  huh? 

Oh, and--funny, but here I am driving home from the convention, swilling cough syrup laced with narcotics ('cos I had to go the whole day trying not to talk spontaneously or too much, because I couldn't drink enough cough syrup to help without getting plowed), hoping no police car drives up beside me (boy, I wouldn't even know where to start with *that* explanation, considering that my car is currently a repository for some pretty weird things that are part of our sensing suite at Job 2 that need to be unloaded, but I haven't gotten around to doing it yet, and this includes dummy heads, plus a big-ass 12-lb. bag of cat food and a small trap), and jetzt schalten wir das Radio an/Aus dem Lautsprecher klingt es dann Robert Christgau (sorry, I just couldn't resist), extolling the virtues of...Crunk.  I actually thought I was hallucinating that one at first (this is some really rocking cough syrup), but maybe he's just trying to be relevant or something.  Or maybe he's on cough syrup, too.  Who knows?  I for one never saw that coming, but then there'd be those who wouldn't have been expecting to see me getting wasted off cough syrup in my car on the highway, listening to NPR, and agreeing not only with Christgau that Crunk could suck worse, but also agreeing that Crunk sounds better when you are pretty fucking wasted on cough syrup and driving on the freeway.  :-)  The whole world is going to Hell.  All of it.  Pack your bags.

No, rilly.

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