Upon my return to my hotel room this morning I had worked 34 hours, and slept 8, in the preceding 54 hours total since walking out my front door for the airport on Friday morning. I grabbed myself a Timmy's coffee (the Tim Horton's are fewer and farther between out here, read, not one every 3 blocks) on my way back from dropping off my samples, hoping to stay awake at least for the game, and possibly into the late afternoon before grabbing a short nap, and then getting a good night's rest and getting back into a halfway normal pattern before hitting the road for Jasper in the morning.
In actuality, I managed to make it to about the 56 minute mark of the soccer game before zonking out. Just as well I suppose since I didn't have to sit through the suspense only to be let down once again; the recurring theme of this World Cup.
The one thing I've always liked about hotel rooms is the wide selection on the tube that we don't opt for at home, when I'm awake enough to watch, but my eyes are too sore and tired to read any more of jPod, which has been awesome so far. I have to give credit to a highschool english teacher that most people disiked for recognizing my personality and turning me on to Douglas Coupland's Microserfs, which likely would have been against the position of the schoolboard. In truth jPod is the only other of his books that I've cracked since, but I'm sure I'll end up picking up a few more in the near future.
My fingers ache from 12 hours of cutting and trimming pvc tubing, and at the lowest point of my fatigue slipping with tinsnips and jamming them into my left wrist, while simultaneously slicing open the fingers on the other hand as they dragged down the fresh rough cut in the PVC. That said, I'm done with typing for now, and will go seek a cold beverage at the hotel bar to soothe the hands and dumb down the brain some.
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