Gil (fenyx) wrote,

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I started writing this Saturday morning...


1) You have to take an inventory the next day.

2) Your brother calls you to see if you want anything from McDonald's, you ask for the bagel meal breakfast, he starts laughing and informs you, it's damn near noon.

3) Friends call you up to check in.

4) You find money in every item of clothing.

5) Friends call to clear up "drunk dials".


I don't even know where to begin.  Hmm...last time on Fenyx Rising...

I guess I wasn't very clear in my earlier entries, but here's the short version.  One of my doctors thought I should have a sleep study done.  I might have a sleeping disorder, he says.  Fast forward about a month, I'm sitting in this room, in a barber's chair watching the National Spelling Bee Championship, while getting all these sensors and wires glued to various parts of my head, legs, and chest.  Good times.  How the hell you're supposed to sleep like you normally do with all this shit on, you tell me, but that's the procedure.  At least you get your own private room, like a hotel room, and everything's pretty private.  Hell of a view of downtown too.  Believe it or not what put me most at ease, other than Lisa's call earlier, was that the, hell if I know, showed up in shorts and a tee.  He was relatively young, so we shot the shit.  Okay fast forward a bit more, I finally manage to get some sleep and they measure my REM, alpha waves, and/or whatever else they look at.  Yeah, I paid lots of attention.  I woke up a few times in the middle of the night, and then towards the end of the night, I guess, I was disoriented, they had me put a mask on to help me breathe or whatever.  It sucked at first, but I guess I got used to it because next thing I knew, it was 5:15 in the morning.


I get ready, try to get as much of that glue out of my hair, say goodbye, and race down the hall and into the elevator.  Of course at five in the morning there's no security, so no one's around to validate my parking ticket.  Pop quiz hotshot, what's more valuable?  The ten or fifteen minutes that it's going to take to get to the main hospital, get validated, and back or the eight extra dollars I'll have to pay?  I cough up the dough, I really want to shower before work.  I don't need people asking me if I used the gel from "Something About Mary".  I'm in the lobby, the parking lot machine is behind closed doors.  Fuck, what not?  Fear not, all of my Oblivion playing as of late helps me come up with another plan.  I walk around as if I were coming in from the parking lot, it's hard to explain but luckily the doors coming in are open, just not going out.  ZZzzziip.  Twenty dollars in, four out.  16 bucks poorer but I'm on my way home.  

Turns out the damn gate was open.

Racing down Clark street, I zoom past Wrigley, and suck as they may, that place always makes me smile.  It's my home away from home.  Back in the 'hood.  About thirty minutes until I'm supposed to be punched in.  No parking, so I park in front of that red water dispenser.  Jog up the stairs, jump in the shower, grab something to eat, race to work.  

The rest of the day is very "Fight Club".  I'm not really awake, but I'm not all that tired or sleepy.  It was just....surreal.  It wasn't going to end anytime soon, Prom was coming up and lucky me, I was chosen to be a chaperone!  I wasn't going to get to bed anytime soon, and since I didn't get a chance to get them done for the party last week, I got my rows whipped up, heh...


It's getting late, I have to get to bed.  I guess I'll finish writing this at some point.  Fuckin' work, I don't know.  Football is way too time consuming.  Of course, as coach said today, you're not doing it for the money, and I'm not.  But sometimes it's tough.  Especially since it is year round, I just don't know if it's worth it.  I'm tired.  I walked home today, actually, I'm friggin' exhausted.  I'm looking forward to the end of the year, but for what?  I'm going to end up being back there all summer.  I don't know...

Well, at least I've got H to look forward to on Friday.

Baby steps.


Tags: work

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