Long, long, looong day at work yesterday. I spent pretty much 75% of my day at work yesterday. Didn't watch any tv aside from bit of Relic Hunter which was on as I ate, and it was Scorpy: This is Your Life on Farscape so I figured I'd watch it as I got ready for work in the morning, which I did.
I was so fried Relic Hunter was cheesy fun. I wondered why all the Irish in 1000AD were all dressed exactly like Normans. Bro said they'd just seen the latest fashions from Paris. Turns out the Bayeux Tapestry isn't a historical document at all, but an early issue of Vogue. Silly us. Picking RH apart for historical accuracy is like shooting fish in a barrel so we stopped because it wasn't fair and we didn't want to appear po faced. Please note that we mocked with love and we realise it's a cheap and cheerful show, and not to be taken seriously. We sat back and started counting out the Oirish cliches. Guiness, check. Pub, check (Nigel even attempts to play darts, bless). Oirish music, check. Oirish accents, check. Big knitted jumpers, check, and so on. Act 3, trapped in a cave/tomb. Act 4, trash historical site/relic in hilarious chase/fight scene. I wince, in spite of myself.
Poor old Nige, though, always being bitch slapped, beaten up, humiliated and generally treated like dirt and Bro swears there's a sweep in the history department on whether poor Nige will ever get lucky. The constant protestations as to his hetrosexuality amuse, too. Nigel, dear, if you're that uptight about it, well, you know what they say - grin.
Being fried I start thinking about other put upon associate professors/grad students (well, okay, one in particular), especially those with grouchy bosses. I start imaging a sidekick lounge ala The Tick. It amuses me waaay too much so I set off to read another chapter or two of some books and then zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
This morning I'm deliciousy punchy, the way being overtired sometimes can make me think of things I'm not supposed to be thinking of, the way it just opens the door to the muses and concentrating on dull repetitive tasks is just about impossible. It's fun like this, but being fried is like being drunk: it's a very tiny margin between too little, just right and too much. Today it's juuuust right, and I've already written a JP3 sex scene in search of a story. Too bad I actually do have dull, repetitive tasks that require my attention (such as it is) or I'd be able to write more. What a waste, me all looped and no time to exploit it.