Eric came over last night to help Jeff and me make a dent in the keg we still have not finished. We need to empty it by the upcoming party, for which we have reserved and paid for a new keg. A while into the proceedings, Becca sent a round of text messages, instructing us to come to meet her at Harry's. We obeyed, and ran into Matt there too. Jeff and Eric called it a night, as did Becca and Daniel, her escort. Matt and I sat with a woman named Amy and a man named Scott, and wound up closing the bar. When closing time came, I went home, but the rest of the group allegedly kept things going.
I woke up this morning neither hung over nor particularly tired, so I went through the full-brewing-process of the morning routine, instead of my normal regiment of giving myself another 20 or 30 minutes to sleep by skipping a normal practice(usually shaving). Oddly, I felt pretty refreshed this morning.
I put the 1812 Overture on my player on my way to work, this morning. Being about 18 minutes or so in length, it was timed almost perfectly for me to start playing it when I walked out my door, and listen to the bells and cannons of its tumultuous finish as I walked in the door at work.
There are worse things than having Tchaikovsky stuck in your head.
when i used to dive to high school i would put on stairway to heaven. it was timed perfectly - just about eight minutes. towards the end, where it goes "And as we wind on down the road..." the road got all...windy...and hilly. then you park, the song ends, everything is quiet, and you go inside.
i must have listened to that song on the way about half the trips.
11:21 AM, May 24, 2007