Total Exhaustion

I am dead.  Legally, I am still alive, but as far as anyone is concerned, I'm dead.  The only thing I have energy to do, besides the millions of things it seems like people need me to do, is stare at walls with the dull-eyed stare of the recently-deceased.  It's fun; put me in a position somewhere, and as long as I don't have to, absolutely have to, get up, you can come back and find me staring off into space in exactly the same position an hour later.

The only reason I'm writing this is because I feel slightly guilty that I haven't written anything in a number of days, and there are others far more disciplined than I who write every day, rain or shine.  If this were a blog where I just talked off the top of my head or recounted my daily, mundane experiences, I might be able to swing that.  I probably wouldn't, but I might be able to.  As it is, there are two factors at work: I have to have time and energy to write, and I have to have something worth writing about (and that's not even always true, but I'd like to believe it is most of the time).

My life got overly busy over the past few days, then I got allergy-sick, and now I'm two shades shy of the final curtain.  What's worst is that I actually am to blame somewhat for being busy, and I am to blame because some things have been busy in a social and enjoyable way.  Which means that I actually have something to talk about, I just don't know that I can muster to get up and go to get up and talk about them.

Short version: the party at Kate's was insane, and I was still drunk the next day, apart from still being other things as well.  Sveta and Mike enjoyed themselves too.  I must talk about it at length.

Then after I got over being drunk and slightly hung over (I don't get super hangovers, but this was enough to make me pause) I realized that I actually wasn't feeling all that well.  I had been feeling a little sniffly before but had ignored it, and then had taken some liquid help in ignoring it, and while I was ignoring it, apparently it blossomed into full-blown sick.  So I spent the rest of the day not feeling well, which didn't really go away, it just faded into the background.

Plus, the insomnia.  Stress insomnia.  Hooray.

So I'm not the sexy kind of dead.  I'm the bitter, angry, spacey kind of dead.  And while I have a short breather from some of the things I need to do mid-week, I then have a solid run of crap for a while.

This was a long post to say that I'm sorry I haven't written about the party yet, and I'm going to as soon as I can, I hope.  If I don't write about it until next month, just pretend that it happened then, okay?