...What? (Yaaaawwwwwwwwnnnnnn)

The Bruins game went to a shootout, so I didn't get to bed until 10:30 last night, later than I like on a work night; I really need at least 8 hours to be functional, but, you know, the Bruins. Off to the best start in franchise history! I had to watch. They lost in the shootout, but given that they were down 3-0 near the end of the third, and took the Rangers and Lundquist from shutout to shootout, it's not that bad. Plus, watch Jack Edwards; I love it. Of course he's a homer; he's supposed to be. Yawn, oh well, off to bed.

However. It turns out that my city is working around the clock to clear the snow from last weekend's storm, an attitude that sounds commendable in theory, right? Well, when they arrived outside my bedroom window at 1 this morning, and were there until 3, banging and clanking and scraping and beep-beep-beeping the whole time? I was not such a fan of their dedication. I already wasn't going to be getting enough sleep-- I really needed those two hours. And I didn't get them.

And believe me, I tried.

There is a school of thought that says acting the way you want to feel can help you feel that way: acting happier makes you actually feel happier, and so on. I think this may be true, in some cases, but trying to act more awake has no noticeable effect on me. My eyes were at half mast all day. I dragged to the chiropractor, then gave up on alternate-knitting-group and came home. Who wants to guess how early I'll be in bed? Is 6:30 too early?


One slight bright side is that, while yesterday's situation didn't evaporate overnight, it's hard to get up a head of steam worrying about it when I'm this tired. Sufficient unto the day, etc.