The joys of sleep-deprivation...

A while back I noticed that I made a special point of going to bed early on Thursdays, so as to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when Friday's parties rolled around. Being well-rested during the slave week seems a lesser concern. My coworkers opine that this is an unfortunate reversal of appropriate priorities. I reject their hypothesis.

But I do think it's time I slowed down for a couple of days. I was up at 5 AM today to do a favor for CUSO, interviewing some would-be international interns. One was supremely qualified, the other radically less so, and I hesitate to recommend the latter for international work. Ugly thing is, they're a couple and travel as a pair, so it'll be interesting to observe the vicissitudes. That nicety concluded, I worked a further 10 hours at my actual job (the departure from which I've momentarily stalled while I accumulate capital for something more cataclysmic). I'm wiped, and my bed beckons.

In other news, I'm sunburnt, I've raged at a couple of people who might not have deserved it, and I'm two episodes behind on Battlestar Galactica. More impressive is that Brendan finished his thesis defence today at SFU, capping a years-long process in which his entire skull has frequently incandesced with stress and intellectual fury. Now he's finally, blessedly done, and is likely to rejoin the functioning human race. Yay Brendan!