Today is Thursday. As you may recall, Thursdays = Everest. I work, then I teach, then I go to class for 3 hours, getting home at about 10 pm. It’s long, but I can generally hack it.

Not today. My brain was fuzzy from the get-go, for some unknown reason that has yet to make itself known. I drank some coffee, which didn’t work. It was decaf, so at least we know they mean it when they say they took the fun out of the beans. Eventually, I wandered down the hall to an unoccupied office, shut and locked the door, turned off the lights and closed the blinds, and had a cat nap. Actually, I kept half my brain awake, so it was more like a dolphin nap than a cat nap (although, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen Maui sleep, and I’m wondering if this might explain her general tweakiness. I’m no good on less than 7 hours…).

To be honest, I didn’t really sleep, because I was kind of paranoid someone would burst in (though how I thought they would accomplish this with the door locked had clearly escaped me) and then there would be mayhem. I guess this is what I thought might unfold:

Person: “Uh, Rachelle? Are you okay? Whatcha doin’ down there? Sleeping?”

Me: “Um, hi. Yeah, I was just resting. I’m really tired today and thought I’d relax on my lunch break.”

Person: “Huh. Okay.” <<backs away slowly, thinking to him/herself that Rachelle is an odd girl>>

Hermes does not share my concerns about sleeping on office floors.

Clearly, it’s a good thing this great atrocity didn’t occur. After all, I work on the Health Promotion team: No one would ever understand something like taking a rest break at work… Oh, wait. Yes, yes they would.

I’m about to go to bed, but I felt like I needed to tell you about this thing that happened last Friday, in the name of current news. I’m all about being relevant and timely. So, I’m walking home from yoga, up Johnson Street, the street on which I reside, when I hear a dude singing. He is a Japanese guy, not that it makes any difference, apart from a mixed-up “r” and “l” now and then, but he is NOT a good singer. He is singing, nay—belting, I Just Haven’t Met You Yet, by Michael Bublé. This is a really good song. Not so much, however, when it’s being sung by someone who is tone deaf. And I mean he is REALLY giving it. For 4 very long blocks.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining or making fun (okay, I’m making fun a little): this guy had me giggling the entire walk home, and I gotta say I admire his, um, tenacity.

I have to go to bed now because I can hear Adam snoring in the bedroom, which makes it hard for me to fall asleep. As long as I’m out first, it doesn’t bother me. But, since I’m still typing, I’m obviously not in bed.

Nighty night!