Some nights you just have to recognize when you’ve been beat. Tonight was one of those nights.
The plan had been to head somewhere after work for dinner and some clickety-clack on the laptop, draft out an article or two, before the SCA meeting. But after having the Worker’s Comp audit pushed back almost two hours and the ever-present exhaustion and the return of the stabbity headache what I really wanted to do was go home and go to bed until, oh, Monday. Instead, I compromised: I went home, had soup for dinner, and took a one-hour nap. Then the nap became extended another hour. Oh, well, I figure I needed it, right?
Anyway, the other part of the compromise with myself was that I would get up and write after the nap. Well. One of the compelling arguments for not writing away from home tonight was my idea that doing the visuals before I wrote the article would streamline the process more and prevent the pictures from holding up the works. Ergo, I’d stage some photos tonight and be on the right track. Sigh…
I turn on the dining room light and it goes out. Drat. Plus I still needed to clear the New Year’s decorations away from the prime photographing spot (the dining room table) so I took care of all of that and then climbed up to get the globe off the ceiling fan. Man, I hate that, I’m always afraid I’m going to drop it. Anyway, I get it safely off and go in search of spare bulbs. Now, being the good little do-bee I decide that I need to use one of the CFLs that I picked up at IKEA last April. Ta-Daa! It works (after having to search for them) so then I go to replace the cover. Yup. The CFL? Is too long. Not compact enough, apparently, so I have to go get one of the not-as-earth-friendly incandescents. Bother.
But now the stage is set, as it were, to shoot some pixels on practicing calligraphy. Except I recall from Monday night that the camera batteries are caput (I had to take the holiday pictures with TheQ). I go to the box for a refill and there are two. The camera? She takes four. Oh, yes, she’s a greedy little bitch like that, total prima donna. And right about there is where I pressed the ‘fuckit’ button and decided that particular task could wait until tomorrow.
So, instead of writing or photoging and the like, I’m going to swap nights and chart out another chapter of Wedding Tarot. Take that, plan, I call bullshit on your ass.