Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

I had fun last night with elisem and a number of other cool people, talking and playing with earrings and such. Eventually, Elise and Mike decided it was time for them to go back to Brooklyn, at about the same time that I suddenly and completely lost my ability to cope with an increasingly noisy bar. So cattitude, L (WINOLJ, nor likely to be), and I got some Chinese food, and the Cattitude took me home and put me to bed. About an hour after my bedtime.

When I talked to him this afternoon, he pointed out that I had been up past my bedtime, to a greater or lesser extent, six nights in a row, so of course I was tired. I'm glad to have gone out and seen people--especially since my next chance to see Elise is likely to be next Spring--but I suspect the next few days are for rest, a bit of freelance work, time with my beloved Cattitude and our mad kitten, and exercise.

I'm home alone at the moment, having turned down an offer to buy me a ticket to a Broadway show to be named later (via the TKTS booth): the show in question turned out to be The Producers. I turned it down because I suspected I'd fall asleep partway through, or have to skip work tomorrow, or both: the former would be rude and a waste of a ticket, and the latter would cost me more than the ticket price, so I'm better off buying myself a matinee ticket.

Not that I've been to the theatre lately, because the sleepiness isn't a one-off, it's a consequence of this damned commute, a situation in which going to bed at 10:45 instead of 10:15 is something I pay for the next day.

And I have this job because the previous temp was sent home after less than a week for falling asleep on the job.

I'm both feeling extra resentment that I've given up the evening out (with cattitude, two of his siblings, one of his in-laws, three nieces, and a nephew) for a job that is likely to end before the month does, and vaguely figuring that it's okay because I'll get my life back soon.