The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Monday, June 12, 2000

Better living through chemistry

I am a chemical and sleeping wreck right now.

Friday night (like around 11:30 pm or there abouts) my friend Greg calls. He's still at work but he wants to know if I want to head on over for a night of Quake. Sure. I head on over there.

So it's Greg, Marty and myself. 7:30 am Saturday we leave Greg's office and head to Denny's for breakfast. I'm in bed by 10 am. So therefore my sleeping schedule has been shot to hell and back.

I get up in time to meet some friends for dinner, then I get with some other friends later in the evening and I manage to get to bed around 6:00 am Sunday.

I barely manage to get up for the weekly Sunday gaming session and to help stay away, I drink a bottle of Bawls Soda. So now I'm doped up on caffeine. The Coke, Pepsi, iced tea, Oreo Double Stuffs, Tootsie rolls and other assorted junk food at the gaming session didn't help either.

By 5:00 pm I'm buzzing.

By 9:00 pm I can feel the crash coming on.

At “dinner” (at a local IHOP) I had toast and lots of water.

By 2:00 am Monday I've crashed.

Which is good, since I have a 1:00 pm meeting with a client.

Which I barely make.

The alarm clock goes off and I'm just dead. It takes me nearly an hour to get somewhat functional and off to the client's office.

By 4:00 pm (I'm home by now) I crash again. For three and a half hours.

I get up, still sluggish and get dinner with my roomate, Rob. I feel wierd. I want to sleep, yet my body feels like it could run a couple of marathons and still compete in the Iron Man Triathalon. I'm still buzzing. And tired.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Obligatory Picture

[It's the most wonderful time of the year!]

Obligatory Links

Obligatory Miscellaneous

You have my permission to link freely to any entry here. Go ahead, I won't bite. I promise.

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