I ended up getting sick at work on Friday with really bad dizzy spells (the whole place was spinning) and I couldn't drive like that, so I just tried to sleep in the car for awhile to get better. Should have carried some aspirins in the car, although I don't know if that would have helped. I ended up missing Chairo's party since I felt so sick, which really sucked... would have been a lot of fun. Sick to my stomach, dizzy and nauseous. Kind of like being hung over, only much worse, and without the fun of getting drunk the night before.
So I barely manage to drive home and can only crash out on the couch right by the door, where I sleep for the next 15 hours. Sleep isn't quite the right word, it's more like toss, turn, get up and still feel dizzy, and wonder if I've been hit with some sort of deadly disease and should be in the ER. Folks, I was so sick, I coudln't even have a beer.
On Saturday I get up and around in the afternoon wanting to make something of the weekend, not knowing that it's already been capped in the ass. I wanted to go to Folsom Street Fair to see Mark Chester's exhibit that he was doing, but I couldn't get anyone to go in on it. People are too busy, or don't want to talk. After calling around and just getting people's answering machines, and getting generally blown off, I decided to go shopping and buy some stuff for the house, and the big Action-packer style fursuit box that they have over at the Container store. It's in Walnut Creek, a damn long way from San Jose, but they're the only place I know of that has this box.
(It's 40"x20"x20", which is not an easy size to find)..
I get back on Saturday night to San Jose, and manage to catch dinner with Terraluna and Diadexxus after the great Fiberglass saga that they've been working on. I wanted to do something fun, but I guess I'll settle for dinner.
Sunday was a waste of petrol. I drove around trying to meet up with people that weren't there, and ended up driving back towards home pretty annoyed. Thanks to Brokken for being there to grab a bite with me Sunday evening and give me someone to talk to, after no one else wanted to. Higgins and I got to talk for a little bit that evening, and then called it a night.
After a weekend like that, I'll actually be glad to go back to work.
During the whole manic saga of this whole year, from the crash of the HawkMobile to the House Hunt of Futility to the Move of Doom, I've been so insanely busy and preoccupied with such catastrophes that I've never had time to really think about how lonely I've been all this time-- I've just been too busy (or too drunk) to think about it. Now that work isn't totally insane and my home life is actually stabilizing, I'm looking around to try to talk to people, and they're not there.
Really sucks that way.