My free pouring latte art shows signs of improvement.In other news, I am a fucking idiot. Yesterday The Dreaded One and I had our usual Sunday lunch indulgence. Just went to a cheap local seafood restaurant, shared a meal and a bottle of wine in the sunshine, then moved on to a favorite drinking hole, The Black Cat on Brunswick Street.
On a whim, I texted fellow Team Awesome member, Bianca to say that if she and her guy felt like joining us for a drink, it would be really nice. They agreed and joined us for a couple of quiet drinks. They seem really lovely and even invited us back to theirs for dinner. I think it's safe to say that we might become friendly as opposed to just work mates. As I've said, she is an absolute pleasure to work with and he seems cool too.
So why am I a fucking idiot? Well. We've been pulling pretty long weeks. More than 50 hours a week, six days of the week. I really start to feel it towards the end of the week, especially given that I'm not a massive sleeper anyway. Basically, I had to bail on dinner because the combination of feeling physically tired, drinking booze in the sunshine, and being a fucking idiot mean't I started to melt. I felt myself going downhill fast and knew I had to get home and flake out. I said goodbye to the others with The Dreaded One heading on for dinner.
I made it home and passed out immediately.
And slep through my alarm. I awoke with a jump and looked at my watch - 8.30? How the hell did that happen? We open the cafe at 7am. We are so late. And another thing - where was The Dreaded One? Either she had left without me, which was unlikely, or she had pulled an all nighter. On a Sunday? What was she thinking?
I got dressed in a hurry, grabbed my things, my laptop, and dashed out the door. No time for a tram, I'd have to catch a cab. I called The Dreaded One to find out what the hell she was playing at but no answer. I flagged a cab down and we headed off.
In the far off back waters of my mind, a couple of things occured to me: something was wrong with the light, like it was just too overcast or something; and there seemed to be more people out and about. Some of the cafes were packed for that time of the day, and even the pubs seemed full. What had gotten into people?
I got out of the cab, feeling a bit rough. I crossed the road and got my keys out. The place next door was full, which was weird because they normally aren't even open on Monday morning.
No. Actually, something is definitely not right. I stood outside the cafe holding my keys and looked around a bit more. So many people... the light was not increasing, the darkness was.
Because it was 8.30 at night. I'd only fallen asleep for a couple of hours. I think the owner of the restaurant next door saw me and probably wondered what the hell I was doing. Feeling like the idiot that I was, I flagged another cab and went back home.
Sheepish? Hell yeah.
Also, speaking of fucking idiots, here is my latest piece for Soot mag. It's about the biggest fucking idiot there ever was. And I feel I can say that with authority, given that I'm no slouch in the fucking idiot department.
