Let’s Panic Later

I have a problem with caffeine. Specifically Diet Pepsi drunken after 7PM. It will affect my sleep patterns later in the evening. Last night I fell into a deep sleep almost immediately and then a few minutes later I woke up and had difficulty going back to sleep. Narcolepsy? Hope not. Strange things happen in a deep sleep that comes quickly.

I heard a metallic gong-sounding thing, but looked like a frying pan lid. That is what woke me up. So I tossed and turned for what seemed to be a long time. Of course with day 5 of non-stop rain, waking up isn’t that easy.
Couldn’t really get started and missed a few buses, and once in the city, I decided to take the subway to 5th ave and central park south. I looked great in my Sean John suit. I know I know, but it’s looks so damn sexy. But without a raincoat, I was getting wet despite the umbrella. Wind blowing rain in many directions all at once, no matter what happens, you’re going to get wet.

That sounds like a MenAtPlay.net video.

Took the shortcut thru Trump Tower and the IBM atrium, and still soaked. I guess this is how the weather is most of the time in Ireland and England. They can have it. Got to my desk and as usual really started working. I remember thinking about the bonus I may be giving up if I take a new job before November. But with the pseudo Zen rationalization that I uncannily possess from time to time, I figured that the money didn’t exist, and wouldn’t exist until I had it in my bank account, so what’s the big deal? And for once I was right.

People tell me I’m right more often than I think, but I guess I never stick around enough to find out.

Had some strange words with Julio, who believes in me, more than I believe in myself. And on the other hand was Frank, my brother, who can always find the wrong thing to say. Right now I’m scavenging for self-confidence, and with but a few words, only another O’Toole can cut me down to size. I forgot exactly what he said, but I was cut.

Maybe it’s an Irish thing. I’ve felt that a lot of the time, the Irish will not support each other, though if you say anything bad about the Irish….

So I left work at 2:30 for an interview that lasted about 5 minutes. BY that time I was soaked, tired and a bit angry with the Harpies at work. So I took the PATH home and walked to the apartment.
Even more soaked, I was going to dry out this once fine suit, but it looked a shambles. So I went to Center Cleaners, dropped it off, picked up another suit and shirts.

I was expecting to hear from a certain Christopher Hammer, who I’ve been chatting online with for a few years. Lives down the shore, wears suits and smokes cigars. He was supposed to be coming to Hoboken, or at least in the area, But I haven’t heard a stitch.
C’est la vie, it’s pouring out anyway.