Just a few moments to post a couple of thoughts before the combination of NyQuil and sleeping pills puts me out for the night. I was recovering from my cold and feeling lots better when I pulled a shift working as the door bitch for a big R&B concert Tuesday night. Aside from being physically threatened by some punk-ass Suge Knight "Lite" promoter who, by the way, I could probably gay-slap down without breaking a nail, I was also battling a cold night in Times Square. About 700 people came in through the front door, and even though I was wearing a sweater, scarf and hat it was pretty fucking cold. I had gone in at 6pm, knowing it would be busy but expecting to be out by 9pm. Instead I didn't leave until almost 1 am. When I finally got to bed it was 4am and around three hours later I woke up with a hacking cough that would, not, stop. Realizing I would never get back to sleep that way I finally got up and knocked back some DayQuil and 1/2 an Ambien. Half an hour later I was drifting off to a sleep that lasted until almost 2:30 in the afternoon. Most of my day off was shot but what the hell.
I did learn one interesting tidbit. For weeks now I've been finding a little stream of dog pee starting in one corner of the living room and running under the coffee table. I sometimes clean it up immediately, but sometimes it happens three or four times before I clean it. I've always assumed it was Jet, even though it's a lot less than he usually pees outside. I thought he was just going to relieve himself until I got up to walk him proper. Imagine my surprise at 7:30 am when I find my roommate's dog out on the loose, having just left a fresh poop in the hallway and staring at me as I head for the bathroom medicine cabinet. It's then that I also discover a fresh puddle of pee, not yet running down the uneven floor towards the coffee table. Poor Jet has been falsely accused all along, and it's my roommate's dog that is the Secret Peepertrator.
That's it for now. Medicine kicked in, off to bed.
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