I'm putting this in the "Other people's misery" category, though it would be more correct to say, "My misery." I just don't feel like creating another category (I will if I keep being miserable, tho--and thru TypePad, I can change or add a posted post to a different/another category. Neat, eh?).
Basically, for all practical purposes, I just got home. Bedtime was about twenty minutes ago.
See, the other hardware guy is on vacation, so I'm doing a double workload. Not that big a deal, really, but it gets draining after. . .uhhh. . .three days. Left a little late, get home, the gf was home late, no one feels like cooking. . .so it's off to FedEx to pick up the package they didn't deliver, then to dinner with the gf's mom (and I ate waaay too much, just as I got within three pounds of my target weight-loss goal)(I'm still down over forty pounds from 30 months ago, tho, but the beach is coming up next week), then my parent's house, then the pet store (they were out of Cell Sorb), then come home, talk to Rat Witter, scritch some other rats, balance the checkbook. . .and get to read a blog or two, and I realize I'm farking dead.
Susie has a twelve-hour day today, dealing with the public, so I really shouldn't complain. But I did anyway.