Saturday should be a day of lots of fun and relaxation. At least this particular Saturday was going to be one of long, wonderful sleep.
Three and an half hour after I might have fallen asleep, I was brutally woken by a terrible phone. Due to the nature of the call, I couldn’t bite the other person’s head off, and I needed to be pretty much awake to make sense. I hung up, cursed a bit, and crept back under the duvet. And some few minutes later, I was interrupted again. Some stupid things about cars and who was going to use which and whatnot. This time I had to bark a bit, and say that I really didn’t care. I just wanted to sleep. Preferably until Wednesday. And then I tried to go back to sleep. It was useless. Three hours later, I still couldn’t sleep. My entire body was hurting, and my temper shorter than even I could imagine. And then I decided to go to IKEA to get myself a couple of new bookshelves for my bedroom. And I didn’t want to go to bed until the job was done.
Eric is now sitting on the only free spot on my floor, and I’m going to bed anyway.
59 hours, a total of five hours sleep.
This is going to be the worst monday ever! Without a single drop of alcohol