Exhaustion
The moon is hanging low tonight like a half-open pupil. It matches the look I imagine is on my face. I am bone tired. In the past twenty-four hours, I wrote and delivered a presentation on location technologies in pervasive computing, and then rewrote and delivered a windows service that will automate the build process at the enterprise software company I am working for.
This tired, and in fact this whole week’s haste, is all because of 24. I watched the series premiere on Sunday and then all hell broke loose because my roommate had the DVD boxed set of the first season. The next thing I know I’ve drank an entire bottle of Chianti, it’s four in the morning on Monday, and I haven’t managed to do a damned thing besides ensure that the rest of my week will be in shambles. I don’t know what’s worse, that I watched eight straight episodes of 24 or that I’m bitching about it like a bourgeois asshole.
Damn you, Keifer Sutherland!
This tired, and in fact this whole week’s haste, is all because of 24. I watched the series premiere on Sunday and then all hell broke loose because my roommate had the DVD boxed set of the first season. The next thing I know I’ve drank an entire bottle of Chianti, it’s four in the morning on Monday, and I haven’t managed to do a damned thing besides ensure that the rest of my week will be in shambles. I don’t know what’s worse, that I watched eight straight episodes of 24 or that I’m bitching about it like a bourgeois asshole.
Damn you, Keifer Sutherland!
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