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Sep. 26th, 2016 10:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeI got eight hours of sleep last night and I'm still exhausted. And I think I know why? But it's still aggravating, especially when the brainweedles are chewing on the wires because I'm too goddamn tired for the automatic processes to catch the thoughts before they form. Which is I think at this point what usually happens. I just. Tired. Processes degraded. Maybe early bed again tonight.
So my weekend went like this: wake up way too damn early, stretch out some, go to capoeira class. Go to work, label things until about to fall over, take the bus home except not quite, overshoot enough to hit the grocery store. Get cheese for enchiladas. Walk home (20 minutes which isn't bad in heat and sun which is), fall over on couch, stare at boyfriend when he says "I don't know how to make enchiladas help." Yes you fucking do. And the fucking recipe for the sauce is in the goddamn recipe book do it yourself while I shower. After that I got to actually collapse, and didn't do much of use till the next day.
(... no, wait, I got cupcakes frosted. I think? Or was that Friday night.)
Sunday morning! Wake up too damn early. Go pokewalking because I'm a glutton for punishment, try to get myself organized enough to hem capoeira pants before the roda. Manage to! Even manage to get some knitting done. Pack up cupcakes and apples and bananas, go to roda. Play capoeira. Hike up the damn hill on a bum knee to see the peace gardens. Hang out with people! Make friends, half of whose names you have no idea what the fuck they are. One of them is getting called Giovanni because I don't even, it was a joke that got out of hand. Catch a ride home thankfully because too tired to walk fifteen minutes. Thankfully the boyfiend has made up for being a whiny shit about enchiladas and made dinner Sunday night. Collapse. Eat a shitton of leftover cupcakes. Attempt to stay up long enough for TV, fail, die.
And then I woke up an hour after my alarm went off this morning and was all "you know what fuckit I'm staying in bed another hour."
And I'm still fucking tired.
Today is a day of getting shit done while punching brainweedles and saying 'fuck' a lot. I just hope I can get shit done.
So my weekend went like this: wake up way too damn early, stretch out some, go to capoeira class. Go to work, label things until about to fall over, take the bus home except not quite, overshoot enough to hit the grocery store. Get cheese for enchiladas. Walk home (20 minutes which isn't bad in heat and sun which is), fall over on couch, stare at boyfriend when he says "I don't know how to make enchiladas help." Yes you fucking do. And the fucking recipe for the sauce is in the goddamn recipe book do it yourself while I shower. After that I got to actually collapse, and didn't do much of use till the next day.
(... no, wait, I got cupcakes frosted. I think? Or was that Friday night.)
Sunday morning! Wake up too damn early. Go pokewalking because I'm a glutton for punishment, try to get myself organized enough to hem capoeira pants before the roda. Manage to! Even manage to get some knitting done. Pack up cupcakes and apples and bananas, go to roda. Play capoeira. Hike up the damn hill on a bum knee to see the peace gardens. Hang out with people! Make friends, half of whose names you have no idea what the fuck they are. One of them is getting called Giovanni because I don't even, it was a joke that got out of hand. Catch a ride home thankfully because too tired to walk fifteen minutes. Thankfully the boyfiend has made up for being a whiny shit about enchiladas and made dinner Sunday night. Collapse. Eat a shitton of leftover cupcakes. Attempt to stay up long enough for TV, fail, die.
And then I woke up an hour after my alarm went off this morning and was all "you know what fuckit I'm staying in bed another hour."
And I'm still fucking tired.
Today is a day of getting shit done while punching brainweedles and saying 'fuck' a lot. I just hope I can get shit done.