... do really dumb stuff.
I've had about 8 hours of sleep in the past 3 days. Dealing with deadlines that were stacked up down here in the hole (luxurious basement office) in a manner that would make Jet Blue proud.
Sleep deprivation can be dangerous - I don't how the interns on Grey's Anatomy do it. Perhaps because they're 20-something, having lots of great sex and fictional?
note to self: in next life come back as 20-something fictional character.
I've spent nearly all of the past 72 hours working - I have edited until my red pencil bled, I have created data files that sing, mail merges to make ya weep and excellent excel files.
I did wander away from the desk from time to time to stretch and clear my head and in those brief moments of exhausted freedom I managed to:
Leave a full glass of milk on the edge of the coffee table. It had a big red straw in it. Siren loves red straws, he also teaches curiosity to other cats at the PetSmart Learning Annex. Whoever said it wasn't worth crying over spilt milk never had to clean it up.
I threw a leaky foul bag of trash into the recycling container. Easy mistake - one is green, one is yellow. The container is so deep that I couldn't retrieve the garbage without tipping the container over and resting it against my leg. I had to use the left leg since the stronger, more balance experienced leg is still recovering from the "Elephant Leg" mishap. It wasn't until the full weight of the container was resting against my foot that I realized I was wearing flip-flops. I quickly reacted to my poor choice of protective footwear by losing my balance, smashing my head against the fence and falling half into the recycling bin. This made grabbing the garbage bag so much easier.
I wondered if the coffee pot was still on by touching it. As sleepy as I was I did not allow the bright red power light to distract me.
I grabbed for the ringing telephone while using the vegetable washing spray thingie. Again - kudos to me - I was multi-tasking by talking to my neighbor while washing the kitchen walls.
Thank goodness I didn't need to operate heavy machinery. I swear I caught the washing machine hugging the laundry room wall in all out terror as I walked by.
My original plan was to celebrate the death of deadlines by putting up my Christmas tree. Considering that fragile glass and electric lights are part of the task I'm re-thinking. I'm nothing if not a clever executive able to adjust in an instant to her changing environment.
The new plan is to have a piece of ice-cream cake (no fire, no sharp utensils) as a late dinner and then sleep.
Tomorrow is another day and the Christmas tree can wait. And it's flame retardant.