but, in an effort to remedy the former, i thought i would stay home the other night rather than going to brooklyn. i slept ok, woke up absolutely fucking exhausted anyway, and worked from three-thirty to elleven. by the time i got out of there, warmed the car up, drove home, ate some dinner (cereal and toast), brushed my teeth and washed my face it was well after midnight. and by the time i fell asleep (i think) it was well after one.
so now, six hours later, i'm drinking my first and last cup of coffee before i have to be at work at NINE.
also: i passed conor oberst on tenth street, just above tompkins. i raised my eyebrows at mr. peter droste, who was walking with me, and turned around after he had passed, silently pointing and whispering excitedly. most of you already know, because i was too excited to keep it to myself for more than five minutes.
and: i called someone to let them know i've been drinking my lunch again--i want to eat, really, i do. but i snack (chips) during the day, and by the time lunch comes around i'm usually too tired and too full (although i don't think it's full so much as not really turned on by the idea of eating, can't find the motivation) and i just end up with a latte. this a) contributes to the aforementioned sleeping problems and b) gets ridiculously fucking expensive because c) $3.44 is a fucking obscene price to pay for two shots of BAD espresso, some milk and a fancy green cup.
and i only justify this habit by staunchly refusing to actually use the words tall grande or venti. not only are they too pretentious (and inconsistent) but every once in a while i get an employee who's confused look when i ask for my drink in ounces is well worth the inflated prices.
i won't even go into any of the girl stuff.