...but now, I'm sad and tired.

10 points for the first person who gets the reference.

I've stayed in one of the super swanky hotels in midtown Manhattan for the past couple of nights. It's one of those places where they should bring me in through the dock - I so don't belong there. I'm wearing underwear from Target. They'll know.

The room itself was awful. The bed was one of those faux-Japanese numbers, without a box spring. To make things even better, the frame was coming apart. So every time I moved when I was in bed, it would make horrible squeaky-creak sounds. I didn't realize this until midnight the first night. I didn't feel like re-packing my crap, and going down to the lobby, with it's high-volume chill music, to ask for a different room. The second night? Well, I was a bit inebriated when I got back.

I got up ant one point during the night to see if there was anything I could do about the bed. Turns out, it was just rubbing against the wall. I slid it out, and no more squeak. Great. I went to the bathroom before going back to bed. Flushed. And the tank never stopped refilling. It's probably the same way right now.

So I went from being kept up by a squeaking bed frame to being kept up by a noisy toilet. In the morning, I went to use the iron. I warmed it up, but then as soon as I put it in a horizontal position, sparks started sputtering out of it. And stinky ozone smoke.

I had a big presentation today. About 80 people were in the room. The laptop crapped out on me about a half hour ahead of the meeting. I managed to fix it, just in time.
The presentation went peachy.

I'd heard that snow was going to hit Chicago, so I got to the airport at 2pm for a 6pm flight - hoping I could get on an earlier flight. No such fucking luck. Three earlier flights went out. Mine? I've just been told has been delayed until 11:15 p.m.
Maybe.

Oh. Joy.

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 16, 2006 at 4:58 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.