I don't have time for this. I don't mean I don't have time to write an entry, but that I don't have time to do anything to make an entry worth reading. I can't sleep and I can't think. Those two phenomena might be related.
Here's the crux of my day: I spit up on myself. That's your highlight. I was drinking coffee too fast and it went down wrong and all of a sudden I could feel it coming back. I tried to choke it back until I could get off the white carpet, but all I managed was to soak my sweatshirt and my Levi's.
That's a pretty helpless feeling, to have something in the wrong pipe and then start gasping for air. I came close to keeling over, and I did end up on my knees. But I survived it, and I suppose a little laundry won't hurt me. I need to do a load anyway. The whole incident threw me off for the rest of the day, though, and the day hadn't started out well.
My latest plans to run errands were stopped at the gate for the second day in a row. Yesterday it was a morning of endless phone calls from the Boss. Today it was a night of very little sleep. I've been a near-zombie all week, and today was the worst. Oddly enough, I probably got more actual work done today than I have on any other day lately.