Who needs sleep?

I do. I realized this on my way home yesterday. Stopping at a red light, my lids fell heavily down and I realized I had to make a conscious effort to keep them open. I went home, did my daily routine of turning on my 6pm Program, BBC World News, and my eyes could no longer stay open.

I began falling into the place of semi-consciousness, where I could hear the television yet my mind was allowing its own images to replace those of reality. Then my phone rang. BeachChic called screaming, “You are so sick! There is absolutely no way you can go to work tomorrow! Seriously, I will call in for you if you don’t! I don’t care! You have meningitis! A migraine! Fucking monistat! I don’t care, you are not going to work!”

BeachChic had gone to the Del Mar races for the day, and partaking of many many libations, she decided the only thing to do was return today with me joining her. I explained that I actually had work to be done (I know – surprise!) I couldn’t go.

In between my exhaustion and her ramblings I could no longer follow her stories of why she was on an English tour bus and what had occurred to her throughout the day. Getting off the phone she yelled, “Get ready we’re going out!”

I hung up and fell asleep. I awoke two hours later and pondered why I seemed to dream of the Swedish Monkey (I shall share about him later) almost the entire time.

I jumped in the shower and getting out La Lo called. Inviting me over to SB’s (which was honestly a much more inviting request) I proceeded to throw my going out clothes in a bag, and headed over there.

LJ stopped me on the terrace, “Are you going out with wet hair?”

I thought she didn’t like the statement that wet hair made, I assured her that it would be dry by the time I went out.

“God I feel like I’m raising a teenager, OC girl. You go out with wet hair, and you never sleep. Please be careful.” (She’s a doll.)

I headed to SB’s, and thought that an early night was in order. Beer and glasses of wine flowed, we overlooked the ocean and marveled at the glowing neon green color the breaking waves were making… and I realized it was 3am.

I hated that as I attempted to wake three hours later.

As has developed into our morning routine, BeachChic called me while I left for work. She claimed she was going to die from her hangover, and I explained that I was so tired I couldn’t drive in a straight line, I proceeded to my office anyway.

I sat at my desk, blinked, and I don’t know how long it took, but my eyes reopened with Onion looking at me asking if I was okay… apparently the blink took a couple of minutes to complete.

A mellow Friday night is definitely in store… although Le and I-E just called to see if I could join them for a couple cocktails…

...we’ll see...