Diary of a complete flake

My alarm rings at 6am this morning. I hit the snooze button four times, feeling uncharacteristically tired. Get up therefore at 6:40. Look out window, and think to myself "Gee it's dark. I wonder if it's raining?" Putter around, check LJ and my webcomics, get ready for work.

Decide to leave a few minutes early to drop off a DVD at my local rental place (Peter Pan, watched it last night, got all choked up at the reunion scene. Am a total sop. Anyway.).

Get on the bus at 8am. At least, I assume it's 8am. Look at watch. It reads 6:59. Damn, think I to myself, my watch has stopped. Look again. Nope, hands are ticking. Maybe the battery's dying. Just great. Now I don't know what time it is, and I'm probably late for work. Fantabulous.

Make a run for the metro, because if it is 8:00, then this is the last one I can catch before I'm late for work. Sit down on metro, turn to nearest guy and ask for time. He checks his watch and tells me it's 7:05.

:::facepalm:::

So I get to work at 7:30 instead of 8:30, grab a coffee and a muffin, and write most of an instalment of Beyond the Pale. May as well put that time to good use, right? I don't know how the hell all this happened. Either I changed the setting on my alarm clock without realizing, or maybe there was a power outage that changed the time on my clock that I didn't notice, or else I moved faster than the speed of light this morning and left the house before I actually got up.

This has gone way beyond absent-minded.

Another gaming story

Thinking about my favourite gaming stories, thanks to curtana. This is another Deadlands bit, featuring the infamous James Bartholomew Taft, quickest living gun in the West, and Emily Smith, niece of Jacob Smith of Smith & Robards, the famous inventors and mad scientists. As a parting gift, her uncle Jacob had given Emily a rifle-umbrella (much more ladylike, don't you think?), just in case she needed extra protection.

So there we were, in the wreckage of a train, fighting off giant automatons. Don't ask. Taft was diligently firing his Winchester at the automatons, when:

*blam!* *blam!* *click*

Taft: "Aww, hell!"

Emily: "What?"

Taft: "I'm out of ammunition!"

Emily: *holds out her umbrella* "Here, use this."

Taft: *looks at her as though she's crazy* "That's an umbrella!"

Emily: "No, it's a rifle."

Taft: "Umbrella!"

Emily: "Rifle."

Taft: "Umbrella!"

Emily: *aims umbrella-rifle at automatons*

*blam!*

Emily: "Rifle."

Dear God above...

Can someone please declare tomorrow an insanity-free zone?

It just hasn't stopped today.

Oh, and you remember the Evil Word Document of Doom? The CAM called me back today (I worked on that thing for the better part of two hours yesterday, after I fixed the formatting) and told me that what I had done didn't "look nice." That's because the boxes she put in didn't go all the way to the bottom of the page. If she hadn't been across the city from me, I would have strangled her with my bare hands.

To add insult to injury, I was supposed to messenger something today, and as I was preparing my envelope, a practically identical package came by messenger, and I got the two mixed up. Luckily I didn't send the wrong package away, but the original package got delayed by several hours.

Then the phones went crazy, people started asking me to make copies and type up reports and organize files and generally do ten important things all at once, and that's when my brain decided to take the rest of the day off, leaving me to cope all on my own.

Gah. Two more days before L comes back. I may just make it with what's left of my sanity intact. Then again...

Beyond the Pale

Beyond the Pale is up! Part 19 and Part 20 have been posted at secret_history.

Part 19.

Part 20.

Happy Trails, folks, and good night!