7 days of...

So it's been a really long week and weekend. Polished off a few projects in record time, visited the dad in hospital every day, had a possibly career-ending chat with the bosses, kickboxed - twice, took a day off, fixed my car keys so now i can beep my doors open instead of manually shoving the key in, shopped like there was no tomorrow (and there might not be, now that i've burnt such a big hole in my pocket), received my first ever manicure, dragonboated, got wasted at a black tie ball, worked hard at the safari, and managed to squeeze drinks in a couple times along the way. I'm surprised there's any of me left to go around. And it feels like there isn't anymore. I came into the office this morning and promptly dozed off at our weekly meeting. Which is SUCH a bad idea seeing how i'm already so in the doghouse with the big guns.

Gosh.

I can't even remember what i started this post for. There was a point i wanted to make, but right now i sure as heck don't have a clue what that was. Maybe it was just to remind myself there is a reason why some people prefer to go to bed early regularly, just so they can avoid feeling like i do at this very moment.

It's bed time for this bugger.