I’m tired. Really, really Tired.
Worked until 2am Saturday morning then had to get up at 8:30 to drop off Chaplin to get his stitches out Tired. Passed out on the couch repeatedly all day Saturday because I didn’t have the energy to drag myself to bed Tired.
Chaplin still bonking into things with his cone until tomorrow night because the vet changed her mind about how long he has to wear it Tired.
Biked 35 miles today Tired. Would probably have biked further if I’d realized how late my Sunday work was going to be Tired.
Finally got dragged into work at 8pm tonight for weekend script distro right as I was about to send an email asking if maybe we shouldn’t put out whatever we were putting out tomorrow Tired.
At least my call tomorrow is pushed off a bit tomorrow Tired, because if I had to be there at 8am after this I would have killed someone Tired.
So tired I’m ending this post with a gratuitous Blazing Saddles clip:
She wasn’t tired how you’re tired. She arrived at her tiredness in a much, um, different manner.
But I get your point. Now I have to watch Blazing Saddles again.
I aspire to that kind of exhaustion.
Don’t we all?