So I have a busy weekend ahead of me. Tonight, Tanja, Ted and I are going to see the Cat Empire at the Metro. Should be awesome. As this is Ted's first Cat Empire show, I hope they're going to be on-form. I reminded Ted (who had forgotten that he gave me ticket money) who then reminded me about band practice with JesusPete Saturday morning (which I had forgotten about). Making my weekend that much busier because Ted and I are going to see Zombie Ghost Train again at the Annandale Saturday night. The show starts at 8:15, but ZGT doesn't come onstage until 11. So Ted and I are going to go early and drink. :)
All this is of course compounded by the fact that Tanja is on Study leave for the next three days (and last night) to write her BIG-ASS MAJOR ESSAY. Which means she's understandably stressed. So I'm walking quietly at home. That not hard. The hard part is MY stressing that SHE'S stressing. This is no fault of hers. Example: my father came over to borrow some movie last night. Due to his wonderful timing, he showed up just as we were about to start dinner. He was also in a taking-the-piss mood, and didn't know why I was acting so twitchy and odd (I was the equivalent of Bruce Willis in Die Hard 2: Die Harder, kneeling on the runway, waving torches to stop the plane trying to innocently land, unaware that it's going to crash and burn on the runway). He saw her piles of post-it notes that she had arranged to help her organise her argument. "You missed a spot. And they're out of order" he says. (Wave, wave, pull up!) Tanja, slightly tersely, explained what they were. "Why would you do that? (wavewavewave, stop!) Tanja starts eating, and my food starts to get cold. I was acting so twitchy and tense that Dad left, thinking I was a bit batty (and slightly narky with me for being short 'n' sharp with him). I gave myself a tension migraine in that 15 minute time that nearly comatose'D me for the rest of the evening.
So yes. Now at work. They've cut off the booze run today because legal bigwigs will be walking the floor. Bugger.
2 comments:
Yes. Bad news about the booze run. But this means we won't be smashed when The Cat Empire start.
Suckers. I could drink while I'm here at not-work, thinking about you suckers who are at work, but I'm probably going to have to see Craig when I get in, so bad idea. That, and I only have a bit of dark rum and some apricot brandy. You can't make ANYTHING out of that!
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