Had my annual, working graveyard shift for eighteen consecutive days moment today where I woke up and for an hour or two was walking around under the impression that it was Friday only to be bummed out at the eventual realization that it was in fact Thursday. Though I'm still not one hundred per cent sure of that either. Maybe it's really Sunday?
Also experienced my thrill of the month moment when I happened upon a downtown parking spot in the shade. SCORE!! I am thrilled at different things than the average human.
At one point I found myself caught in the double no where land of having three different meal items from three different venues in mind, each causing a darn near incessant drooling reflex and being in my car at a point in town, an almost perfect equal distance from each, north, south and west, needing to make a spur-of-the-moment decision and paralyzed by the inability to decide which way to go and a fear that whichever way I did go would be the one where the chef/cook would be having a mediocre day food preparation-wise. It's times like this where a wife would be extremely beneficial to provide a voice and make a decision.
And I must have been looking a little on the shaky side because wherever I went, people seemed to be holding doors open for me and motioning for me to cut in front of them in traffic and things like that.
Then made the especially horrible decision of going through the Dairy Queen drive thru window and ordering a large chocolate covered ice cream cone which in the 95 degree heat, immediately began uncontrollable melting and oozing down all sides of the cone and all over my hand and t-shirt faster than I could electronically roll up my window, lick, eat and drive to a shady spot to enjoy. It's difficult to enjoy your treat when you're engaged in hyper swallowing so you can get back to your melting cone.
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