The Journal of Joe The Peacock. Yay.

3.03.2006:

8:27 AM

For the past three nights, my cats have decided that the best use of their time is to growl, hiss, and swat at one another.

All. Night. Long.

Starting the moment the lights go out (around 1:00 AM) until I end up scruffing them and throwing them out the door, they run around the room, swearing at one another in Catese and knocking shit over.

When you couple this with the fact that I have been pulling 14 - 18 hour days for the past week to get things done, and then sprinkle on a little bit of flu, you get the makings for a truly interesting situation.

I woke up this morning at 4:43AM (I remember the time distinctly; when I woke up and saw the dull green glow of the time on my alarm clock, i remembered thinking "That's only 1 away from 4:44..." Not exactly articulate or insightful, but come on... it was 4:43 AM). I went to bed around 2:00AM, and so I was flying high on 2 hours and 43 minutes of sleep when -- for no reason that I can actually discern -- one of my cats ran across my face.

No one was chasing her. There was no food out, so she wasn't in a hurry for that. I can't tell you why she did it, but I can show you the little scratch marks across my cheek and forehead.

Of course, one does not simply roll over and fall back asleep when a cat runs across their face. I got up and inspected the damage; nothing bad or really even permanent. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't thanks to the little kitty Mardi Gras that was taking place in my bedroom.

I fucking hate cats.

Anyway, after staring at the clock radio for the better part of an hour and willfully holding myself back from smashing it to pieces as it taunted me with the flashing of each passing second, and conceeding that, even though I was tired as hell, there was no chance in hell I was going to go back to sleep, I arose, got a shower and gave myself a nice hot shave (let me tell you something, nothing on earth feels quite like a hot shave. Of course it's not the same as going to the barber, but it does well in a pinch. Women have the multiple orgasm; men get hot shaves. I'd say it's a fair trade), put on some ratty clothes and hopped in the truck to drive to Decatur.

I'll skip right to the point, because I'm actually falling asleep while typing this - I was pulled over for DUI.

The cop who pulled me over said that he watched me swerve and bob and weave for several miles, but once my wheel touched the paint of the dividing line on the road, he had to pull me over. I had to prove myself sober by getting out of the car and walking a line, reciting the alphabet backwards and touching my finger to my nose.

It was demeaning as hell.

He let me off with a warning and the extra-kind suggestion that I get some sleep.

So there you go. That's where I'm at in life right about now.

Let me go ahead and also say that this will be my last ever software-for-hire job. Ever.

I took this contract as a favor to a friend. It was supposed to be a 3 week HTML-writing gig. It's turned into something FAR more complicated and hectic. I think this is God's way of teaching me a lesson about going back on my word that I wouldn't be writing software anymore. But let me assure you here and now, I've learned my lesson. My software development career truly ends the second I'm off this project.

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The Journal of Joe The Peacock. Yay.

3.03.2006:

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