cool_spot

Well, this past weekend was shaping up to be something pretty damn good. After much schedule-checking and cross-referencing, I finally managed to hang out with MistressMinx for a bit. Watched Be Cool with John Travolta and Uma Thurman (okay, so I didn't actually watch it with them, but you know what I mean). And dammit if Uma Thurman isn't hot! Especially with a little Aerosmith tattoo on the small of her back (watch the movie, you'll understand).

Also saw another Trey Parker masterpiece by the name of Orgasmo. Ever wonder what might come of a mormon becoming a porn-star? Odd movie, but definitely worth the giggles!

Well, after the movie-watching I finally made my way home in the scorching heat that was last Thursday. Immediately following my arrival home, I had time enough to shower, get dressed and run out the door again... see, me and the roomie have been painting and re-decorating the dining room for about a week and a half at this point, and been planning it for about two months, so it was high-time we get this done (and no, it still isn't, not quite). So I run out of the house again to pick up a TV wall-mount, some shelves, a coffee table/end table set... and there was something else, I'm sure, but I can't remember at the moment.

Anyway, even after spending all afternoon picking all this crap up, I still can't set anything up since I already have prior engagements for the evening. See, in the canadian military, there is this beautiful tradition called a "Beer Call". This is one of those rare occasions where-in a person who has recently been promoted throws a goodly sum of money on the bar for all his/her friends to drink with. Sounds fantastic, doesn't it? Well, I thought so too... except that at this particular Beer Call, there had been two people that I am fairly fond of who had recently been promoted. They spared little expense on banishing the sobriety of any of their friends that showed up... and did a damn fine job of it, I must say.

Even now I have no idea what time of night/early morning I got home, but I apparently made it... somehow.

I then spent most of Friday in a constant state of "Uunngghhh..". There have been zombies on cheap B-movies that sounded healthier than I did then. Unfortunately this meant that my Canada Day celebrations consisted of a persistant effort on my part to avoid puking. Ahh, well.

Now, Saturday I had the pleasure of driving a very good friend of mine to the airport... at 4am. And if it wasn't bad enough that I had to leave the comfort of my bed at 4am, once we got to the airport things just went from bad to worse.

We arrived at about ten after five, which was a little later than I had intended, but I wasn't about to sacrifice my Timmy's run, so tough shit. I'm already a little worried as we walk through the doors... then I see the line at the check-in counters... this is not good. Then I check his flight time... the plane that was supposed to be leaving at 6:10am... now leaving at 9:45am....... "So, what you're saying is I could still be in bed right now???"

We finally made it to the front of the line at 7 o'clock... I shit you not, it took us two hours of waiting in line to get to the front. Then I had the insight to make a crack, "This is where we see a sign that says 45 minute wait from this point." The people behind us were not happy with me.

Naturally, his connecting flight in Toronto is right out the window, but apparently he has people he can hang out with there anyway, so things worked out well. We have breakfast in the airport... food... area... thingy, and at about 8ish we finally bid our teary good-byes. Well, as teary as a couple of guys who've known eachother for ten years will get anyway.

By the time I got home again, I had been awake for five hours and it was still only 9am.... how wrong is that?!

So, Sunday rolls around, and I'm now starting to realize that this "wrongness" that I was feeling most of Saturday (extended hang-over as I had thought), was now becoming a full-blown illness, and I am none too impressed.

All this week at work there have been a rediculous number of tasks that need to be taken care of before the airshow this weekend. And we've only just gotten the manning that would allow all of these tasks to be completed smoothly.... right up untill I get put on sick-leave all week...

For 3 days now, I've been lying around the house moping and drowning myself in a pool of self-pity, 'cause there's nothing I can do to help anyone at work. And I know this is doing nothing to make their lives easier. What's worse is that everybody else now will have worked 12 days straight by the time next weekend rolls around... and here I am lying about the house.

Now, I know I'm ill, and my voice has gotten to the point where *I* can't even hear it anymore, and honestly even if I could somehow be at work, I would be completely useless anyway.... but that doesn't change the fact that I feel like shit about it....