I am a tyrant when overtired. It's a pattern I've noticed. Poor everybody who has had to put with me over the past four days.
Over the weekend I was in Halifax. Not for the concert on the commmons, although I ended up hearing Paul McCartney do his sound check. I walked all over the city. Went a to a bbq fundraiser. Sat in a park for an hour chatting with Eliyes, watched some skaters land on their asses. Bumped into Nikki and Josh at Strange Adventures. Went on an impromptu shambling wander/shopping trip with Nikki while Josh went home to work (wanker). Met up with Dave and Heather. Heard some hilarious stories about drunk Darcy. (He told the HRPD his name was Joseph Howe. I don't know how he didn't end up in the drunk tank, that's all I'm going to say.) Ended up at the airport to pick up Keith, who I hadn't seen in years. Hung out at a vague acquaintance's with everyone. Made it back to base before the the exodus leaving the commons got bad.
Bumped into Keith and his crew the next morning at Pete's Froot and gossip chatted for a bit. Spent far too much at Lush...again. Sang Joan Baez songs on the car ride home. Demanded we go to dairy queen.
Monday night stayed up too late working on revisions. Made the mistake of sitting by the Bobbsey twins of despair at work. Thankfully I got early leave and visited Robert at the frame shop. I'm going to sneak in and work on some production Saturday to help out, until management finds me and asks me to stop working for free.
Last night went to HBP. I think it was the best one yet. Got asked out on a date and not by a hooker. Which was nice.